#which is exactly the case but why does it read that way. and how don’t i know how to write any other way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vaguely-concerned · 2 months ago

Text

Eight Little Talons Reread Thoughts

Which, I’ll level with you folks, is mostly just me gushing about Teia and Viago and how much they should kiss because of who I am as a person, but maybe also some actual observations sprinkled in. This is still my favourite story in Tevinter Nights, I think, there’s so much Character Stuff in it. Let’s go!

Viago hated carriages—no amount of plush seating could make up for the inevitable ache of being knocked around like weighted dice. But decorum insisted, and he would not be outclassed by his fellow Talons.

Vs.

“You didn’t take a carriage.”

“My luggage did. But I couldn’t resist the opportunity for a country jaunt.” She nodded toward the thoroughbred Taslin strider grazing on the top of the hill. “Andoral so rarely gets a chance to let loose in Rialto.”

“You named your horse after an archdemon?”

“Don’t worry, Vi. I won’t let him nip you.

You know… Andarateia might gain some illusion of normalcy by standing next to the most paranoid wound-up-tight repressed man around to provide contrast, but I think it’s crucial we keep in mind that she is also nuts. Naming your horse after an archdemon IS an insane thing to do in the world of Thedas huh. I suppose she genuinely seems to think of Caterina Dellamorte as a warm maternal figure and is in love with a tetchy snake of a guy too, it does all start to add up when you look at it like that.

— Beneath the smooth samite, he felt like a sinewy ball of tension. Teia suspected contact of any kind made Viago uncomfortable. It would explain why he swathed himself in indigo from chin to toe and refused to remove his gloves during dinner.

He offers his arm to her and doesn’t pull away when they meet Caterina — only when Dante shows up. Interesting (and possibly part of why Caterina seems to consider the two of them a cleverly stabilizing package deal when they get along lol). I love the mix of playful seduction and genuine fond, intimate knowledge and interest Teia has for him all the way through too — speculating about his childhood, trying to divine his thoughts and intentions, testing to see how he reacts to different things. And it’s so sweet that she seems to regard him with this affectionate amusement and fascination (which he seems to be afraid means that she’s mocking him but is, I think, just another level of appreciation she has for him. Correctly. Because he’s one of the funniest people in Thedas both in concept and in practice. Accountant brained-ass noodle arm Vetinari homage poison specialist. Teia’s neurotic purse dog of a man. Sole royal bastard who willingly chose to have a boring Antivan day job (killing people) and makes spreadsheets about it.)

— “Not exactly welcoming, are they?” Teia whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

Viago’s grip tightened on the head of his walking stick.

I swear to god courtney woods is so fucking good at writing romantic and sexual tension. One sentence!!! She drops in a one-sentence detail and it says everything!!!! She has such a knack for consistently adding these details without getting overindulgent or spelling it out too much that I really admire, I tend a bit more towards indulging too much as a writer that way myself so her sense of where to show restraint has me in awe

— “Don’t ‘Nonna’ me, Andarateia Cantori,” Caterina snapped, although the heat in her voice had lowered to a simmer. “Not even my actual grandchildren call me that.”

“Well, considering who your grandchildren are,” Teia responded, “I’m not surprised.”

“How is Master Lucanis?” Viago asked.

Hell yeah Lucanis mention! Can’t wait to see how their dynamics will turn out in-game, we could be in for some truly spectacular and absurd workplace comedy nonsense if we’re lucky

— As always, Viago had with him his leather case of poisons and antidotes for toxins typically hidden in ingredients such as olives, truffles, pasta, lamb, cheese, cream, and alcohol. But he had not expected eggplant.

This is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read, I love Viago so much he’s such a perfect weirdo. Reader, he had not expected eggplant.

— Taking a deep breath, Viago focused on tying his cravat—an ordinarily simple task except now Teia was running her hands across every surface in his room, and his fingers kept slipping on the final knot. “It would help if you removed the gloves,” Teia remarked. “Surely your own cravats haven’t been tampered with.”

Viago being just… seethingly horrifically despairingly horny every time Teia shows up is so amazing, and Teia clearly paying A Lot of attention to his hands and his reactions at all times… again, courtney woods s tier sexual tension provider.

— “No,” she said, crossing her arms. “Not until we boil some water.”

Viago raised a brow. “Eight people were poisoned in this room.”

“Then run your little tests to make sure it’s safe, but I refuse to look at another dead body until I’ve had my coffee.”

I must take care to repeat: teia is also fucking nuts (affectionate). It’s SO FUNNY that her slightly lighter and softer moral take on being a Crow means she does feel bad about the servants ending up in the crossfire, but she will also demand that viago make her coffee with their horrifically bloated corpses still strewn about the room fhdsjka.

— Teia had often imagined what it would be like to kiss Viago. She told herself it was only natural. He was handsome, in his own way, and wound up so tight that she likened him to a giant knot. He was a challenge to untie—to twist and pull and loosen until the tension gave way and he unraveled, laying bare all his secrets. But knots were a delicate business. Tug the wrong way and you could end up with a noose.

I know I KNOW they have sex so weird and intimate and no one even takes their clothes off during it I know it in my heart

— “Do you not think you’re attractive?” Viago turned on her, his ears pink. “Ten people are dead.”

She didn’t back down. “And whoever’s responsible will pay, but that has no bearing on this conversation.”

“It could be me.”

Covering her mouth with both hands, Teia doubled over, laughter spilling from her lips. “It’s not you.”

He looked as if she’d slapped him. “I’m more than capable of killing everyone here.”

“Don’t tell me you’re offended!”

“It is offensive,” Viago protested. “Professionally.”

Teia please tell me you love me not only for my body and fashion sense and numerous and fascinating neuroses but also my extensive knowledge of poisons and capacity to cause death

— Again, Viago felt like a lute string. With every challenge, Teia twisted the pegs, tuning him, until she found what she wanted. Which is what, exactly? he asked himself, not daring to listen to the number of answers that bubbled to the surface of his mind.

You know Viago I think we should let her try some scales here at least. See what happens. (There’s no explicit sex in this story but everything that’s going on is nevertheless so kinky fdsjak. I think Teia could convince Viago to show a flash of his naked wrist and have a reaction like a sheltered young Victorian gentleman seeing an exposed ankle and a playful wink for the first time)

— As if she could feel the sudden rush of shame within him, Teia brought her hands up to rest on Viago’s hips, holding him in place. His thumb stilled as he realized her breath was short. Her pupils dilated. Before he could stop himself, Viago nuzzled his forehead against hers, his nose brushing her cheek. Teia’s hands snaked up his chest to run through his hair. She tugged him forward. He braced himself on one arm, while the other curled around the small of her back.

This whole scene is unspeakably good of course but it’s always the detail of ‘his nose brushing her cheek’ that does me in the most. The longing!!! The yearning, the intimacy, the awkward perfect clumsy physical reality of it!!!! If he kissed her here the magical potion thing on her lips would have been immaterial, the results would have been the same without it!!!!!! The tug of war between longing and fear!

— oblique Zevran mention! <3 as the ultimate failson of house arainai, granted, but as I believe he might argue here: ‘ah, but you have heard of me, no? :>’. Babe I support you so much go out there and raise hell/kill whoever you want to I got your flower

— Big shoutout to the author for managing to pull off an entirely workable ‘And Then There Were None’ plot in the background here, even though the real meat and potatoes going on is the character and relationship development (and what meat and potatoes they are too)! It’s not an easy thing to do even in an abbreviated, more of a homage sort of form and balancing it with everything else going on is a feat

— Caterina 100% knows Teia is in Viago’s room when he’s supposed to be isolated and just doesn’t care lmao. (They act like such teenagers in that scene where she knocks on the door and they haven’t even kissed yet I’m dying). Caterina seems like a terrible person but it’s impossible to not feel for her a little, trying to keep Talons in line seems a lot like herding (very horny very carrying sharp objects) cats

— Standing outside her ex-lover’s room, Teia tried to quell the violent drumming within her. Normally, she didn’t need to come down from a physical encounter. Seduction—like any form of manipulation—was about control. She could enjoy herself, but Teia always made sure to hold the upper hand. Viago had shattered that control without so much as a kiss.

I feel like this is a sneaky common trait that actually is part of what makes them so compatible (and the playful negotiation of which must feature prominently in their sex life eventually lmao): they are both HUGE control freaks. (Indeed it might be hard to be a successful Talon without this trait.) Teia and Viago both strive for control of themselves and their surroundings so deeply, she’s just much more extroverted, psychologically minded and soft power focused going about it (not unlike Caterina, whose power is built more on fear than charm but works along the same lines), while he’s more coldly intellectual and uh materialist? I want to call it? about it. Which makes perfect sense considering their backstories! Teia came from nothing in a monetary sense but has found she excels at moving people, hearts and minds style — and she’s very good at it, she is everyone’s favorite — so that’s the source of power for her, and Viago is not very charismatic or interested in people naturally but grew up seeing how status, wealth and power have their own clinical gravity that can be used, and also that people can never be trusted to watch out for you in that system.

If Thedas has a Machiavelli-equivalent to ask whether it’s better for a ruler to be feared or loved they would both instantly give their answer with their whole chest and then squint at each other like ‘babe how do you live like this’ lol

(Also this line of thought has me wondering what the hell Caterina’s partner/spouse(s) would have been like — she must have at least two children to account for Illario and Lucanis, I wonder if she was ever married and what that looked like.)

— I really like the oppressiveness and claustrophobia you get from the descriptions Teia uses in Dante’s room — it feels so icky and sticky with history and sad and confining, and the way she keeps pushing herself through it anyway is weirdly melancholy to me.

— I also like how their flaws/traits that drive them apart at the crisis point have follow-up consequences outside of their relationship before they reconcile. Teia’s penchant for manipulation and pushing on people indirectly causes the death of someone she once cared about (I mean, fuck that guy, not crying any tears for Dante or his broken bottle, but like in the overarching principle of the thing lol). When she goes too far with it or gets careless, she renders other people vulnerable and helpless in ways she doesn’t anticipate. (Rightfully or not this seems to be part of what scares Viago so much about it, he has this fear of being dissected for whatever she finds interesting and then abandoned when she’s tired of it, the whole underlying being a footnote in her life when she could clearly be something uh a lot more in his anxiety.) Meanwhile Viago’s insistence on self-reliance and reluctance to engage in human contact leaves him easily isolated and nearly results in his death. (And even when Teia saves him he has a hard time giving her full credit in favour of his many neurotic coping mechanisms lmao disaster man.) But when the two of them work it out to understand each other better and come together as a partnership, they’re such a force to be reckoned with that it brute forces the resolution and return to stability near the end. (Well. A significantly reduced version of stability to be fair but y’know better late than never.)

— Also: delicious detail that she is actually the closest you might get to a self-made woman/Talon, and he is definitely at least not in a position to fully dodge the nepo baby allegations — he wants so bitterly to be entirely independent and self-sufficient and not reliant on anyone, and yet it’s his connections inherent to his birth that have helped him get here, while she wants so desperately to have people to rely on because she comes from nothing and has known what it is to be that alone and unprotected. He knows protection and gifts — and love — can easily be taken away and used to control you/render you helpless in your vulnerability from how his father treated his mother, and she knows you have to try to hold on to something in other people or it’s just you and the dirt and you die. Which is what they’re really talking about in that scene where they argue, and it’s why they’re both right and wrong at the same time and it’s so tasty. It’s really Teia asking ‘Will you ever trust anyone? (will you ever trust me, or will you put up this wall every time no matter what I say or do?)’ and Viago going ‘Will you never take precautions to protect yourself against this hurt? (will I have to be the bearer of bad news about how the world really is every time?)’ and neither of them realize that’s what they’re taling about and it’s why it all explodes so badly. (I mean. Factually both came to the wrong conclusion about who the murderer was for fairly good reasons, so there’s also that haha.)

— I wonder if we’ll see Bolivar or the heirs to the houses left Talon-less in the game itself. I’m guessing they probably won’t have big roles, at least, but you know just as background flavour, especially since Crow!Rook is already within the de Riva uh household as it were. I think Viago is still sensibly mid-table at Fifth Talon in Veilguard and Teia remains Seventh? So at least they’re not messing around with that rank order during the occupation

— In semi-not teia and viago news (I am a character first writer and reader I canot change this), it’s neat to see it outlined just how much the Talons really are just merchant princes with some more added knives and cultural weight behind them. They are at the end of the day running businesses, no matter the mystique ™ you wrap it in. (Which I think Viago would be the first to tell you and Teia might try to argue against at least a little haha. Being a Talon is what you make of it you live your truth girl kill awful men you’ll never run out of contracts!!)

— Can’t believe the Crows have self-congratulatory ‘top 10 murders in history!’ classes as part of the training. Do you think Zev sat through those. Probably, if Teia did, right. Now there were some entertaining hours around the campfire during the Blight I’m sure

— Viago understanding but not accepting Teia’s offer to help him with an alibi and at first angling it as being out of hesitancy to accept help/rely on someone, and then later unveiling the added element that he knows Teia respects and loves Caterina and doesn’t want her to have to lie to her for him… Viago is nothing so simple as secretly nice deep down but he IS horrifically in love with and desperate to be kind to specifically Teia and it gets to me okay

— I’d forgotten that DA’s passionate love affair with toxic yuri and some recreational bury your gays extended to Guili and Lera in this fdskjah. Would it really be Thedas without it I suppose (considering the genre of the short story it’s fine with me in this case, though, everyone’s dropping like flies in this even the straight people that’s just equality)

— Viago was not a typical Antivan. He liked facts—checklists, numbers, precise measurements. Heart palpitations, clammy hands, tight pants—Viago did not like these things. In fact, he would go so far as to say he hated them. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood. What Teia had elicited in him was akin to an internal natural disaster.

I simply love him so so much. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood. He failed to account for the eggplant. He’s so annoyed at being poisoned and dying horribly and it literally never occurs to him that anyone would help him until he wakes up in Teia’s lap. He organizes all his poisons by puns. He uses his potentially last breath to argue with Teia about his precise state of dress or undress. Have we finally found him, the perfect man?

(Also between Reyes and Viago Courtney Woods does such a good line in guys who’d really rather be emotionless machines of practical violence and monetary gain but find themselves down so horrifically catastrophically bad that it cracks them open to reveal a soul they aren’t all that happy to discover they have lol)

— When Viago woke, it felt like someone had drained the blood from his body and replaced it with sludge. But it wasn’t all bad—someone who smelled like coffee and cinnamon was playing with his hair. . . . Her fingers resumed stroking his hair. It felt better than the water. It felt better than anything.

Unspeakable. Don’t look at me.

— Viago reaching out and touching Teia’s cheek with his bare hands without a thought and all his tenderness and reverence for her laid bare in turn is something that can actually be so personal and it only took very nearly dying to get there (also… he’s presumably still half-naked through all of this while cradled in her lap. Amazing.). Can’t believe bare hands to cheek feels like third base with these two. And his fucking THOUGHTS through all of this… Don’t cry, he doesn’t deserve your tears, no one does (I don’t, I don’t want to be something that causes you pain) AOUGH

— Vaguely related: the implication in how that part is built is that he’s reaching out specifically to gently dry away her tears, right. Double AOUGHHHHHH not only does he manage to not be selfish or unfair in asking her not to cry he does that instead… there’s hope for you yet messere de riva

— Teia with the red-hot poker standing guard over Viago while he ‘looks like a king in judgement’ and does the Poirot in the library exposition is everything and so hot what the fuck. She a snacc she attacc but most importantly… she protecc, she’s so fucking cool lol. they’re both really smart, but she’s clearly the brawn as well as the social skills (hey manipulation is such an ugly word!) and he’s the logistics and realpolitik on two long thin nerdy legs, absolute power couple. She’s the gaslight he’s the girlboss together may they gatekeep this invading army out of antiva

— You guys… this might come as a surprise I have tried to keep it on the down low but. I really do love the world of Thedas so very much. I love the people and the places and the history and the stupidness and the brilliance so much. We must save the world because everyone I love lives here. Let this be a secret between just you and me we can’t let people know we sit/have emotions etc.

— A servant approached to take the cage in Viago’s hand.

“Careful,” Viago warned. “He bites.”

“I can’t believe you’re keeping that snake,” Teia said, shaking her head. “It almost killed you.”

“Which is more than any man can say. He deserves my respect. And a good home—with all the mice he can eat.”

“But did you have to name it Emil?” Teia asked, making a face.

“An homage. You’re always telling me to recognize my fellow Talons.”

Andarateia ‘names her horse after an archdemon’ Cantori x Viago ‘keeps the deadly adder that nearly killed him as a pet and names it after the last guy who failed to murder him’ de Riva. Freak well and truly matched. Soulmates, no notes, I’ll do borderline anything for these two to make it, goodnight.

#dragon age #dragon age meta #tevinter nights #viago de riva #andarateia cantori #teia x viago #I have gone and been extremely me about this again and I could apologize but you know and I know... I'm going to do it again #so I won't insult you thus by even pretending I'm sorry and have learned my lesson lol

161 notes · View notes

sprinkler-ashes · 1 year ago

Text

begin again // aaron hotchner x reader

begin again

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which there are five times that aaron hotchner restores your faith in love and one time where you restore his. inspired by begin again by taylor swift.

words: 6.1k

warnings: cursing, a touch of angst, hotch in a quarter zip and casual clothes (yes this requires a warning), fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, reader has an awful ex (gn pronouns for ex), mentions of violence and injuries

a/n: i’ve been working on this all throughout the week every night at like 3 am running on, at best, 4 hours of sleep so i’m very sorry if there are grammar/spelling errors – i will edit soon. also i fear i’ve been watching too much dharma & greg, and this was the product. enjoy!

i've been spending the last eight months

thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

but on a wednesday in a cafe

i watched it begin again

One.

It was week one of your new job at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit when you knew with absolute certainty that as soon as you arrived back at the bureau, you were going to hand in your resignation.

You were sitting away from the rest of the team who all sat together, though a little cramped, and deep into discussion about something that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. They were talking normally as if everything they just witnessed over the last few days didn’t affect them.

You knew that you were new to this – it was your first week on the job. But you felt like you should be… happier than the way you currently felt. This was your dream job: one that you’ve spent years working towards. One that you gave everything up for, including your relationship.

However, it was starting to feel like it wasn’t worth it.

The team was very lovely. From the moment the case had begun, each one of them made an effort all throughout the trip to Missouri to make sure you were keeping up and doing okay. They’d even tried to get you to come over and chat with them when the flight started, but you lied and said you were tired.

Your head was leaning against the window, your eyes peering out to see nothing but blue skies and clouds. This was everything you’d ever wanted, so why did you feel the way you did?

A voice in the back of your head told you that your ex was right; you weren’t cut out for this. You were going to fail just like they always said you were going to – this was a mistake.

You couldn’t help but be on the verge of a breakdown with all the thoughts running through your head, but there was no way you could cry due to the presence of someone moving to sit in the seat in front of you. A part of you didn’t want to look up because you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, but, reluctantly, you did look up only seconds later.

BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was sitting in front of you with his usual gaze that made you feel slightly intimidated. He seemed to be good at everything he did – or at least everything you had seen him do. He was well-respected, a damn good profiler, and so put-together that it made you feel like a mess in comparison.

“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, attempting to mask the conflicted feelings in your voice.

He ignored your question. “You just finished your first case. I wanted to see how you were feeling. You and Reid really helped by figuring out the geographical profile.”

You should’ve known he would know. This was a plane full of profilers – they probably all knew.

“I’m good,” you lied with an attempted smile that never reached your eyes. “I’m glad we caught the guy; I’m just really exhausted.”

Aaron didn’t say anything as he obviously did not believe you with his eyes still watching you, presumably reading more about you in mere seconds than you even knew about yourself. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the chatter from the rest of the team filling the air.

“They’ve all been here for years,” he suddenly said. “It still affects them, but it gets easier.”

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you told him, your voice cracking in the middle of your sentence. You shut your eyes, cutting off eye contact. You didn’t want to look at your boss after you basically just told him you can’t do your own job.

This is so embarrassing, you thought to yourself.

When you finally re-opened your eyes, Aaron was still watching you. He moved forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table between the two of you. He was looking at you with what you almost would’ve called sympathy.

“You can do this,” he reassured you, making sure his voice couldn’t be heard by the rest of the team. “You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. It’ll get better.”

The sheer honesty in his voice caused unshed tears to form in your eyes. No one had given you the affirmation you so desperately needed in a long time – not even your ex, who often said more unkind things than kind.

“What if it doesn’t?” You asked, blinking hard to get rid of the tears that were threatening to fall.

“It will,” he said firmly, emphasizing his words. “Go home, rest, and come back for a new day tomorrow.” With that, he stood back up, straightened out the sleeves of his suit jacket, and looked at you one last time before walking back over to where he was originally sitting. “You did very well this week.”

Aaron said everything with so much sincerity that for the first time in a while, you felt a little bit better.

—

Two.

You didn’t end up quitting.

It had been a little over a month since you almost quit your job after the first week. Things still weren’t perfect, but you had gotten more used to being a profiler and had gotten to the point where going to work didn’t feel like such a chore.

You were now in a small North Dakota town on a case. It was the second week of December, and the heat was out at the inn you were staying at, which all of you had, unfortunately, found out when arriving back from the police department.

“I probably know the answer to this, but is there any way we could go somewhere else?” JJ asked as she stood by the door. “It’s freezing, Hotch.”

“Actually, in order for it to be freezing, it would need to be–”

“Reid, not now,” Derek cut him off.

Aaron looked up from the folder he was reading. “We can’t go anywhere else. This is the only place to stay in town, and it’s the only place that was approved and booked.”

“They said they will probably have it going again in under an hour. Maintenance is working on it now,” Rossi announced as he entered the room, stepping past JJ. “They apologized for the inconvenience.”

It was eleven at night, and everyone was in clothes they were sleeping in except for Aaron who still wore his suit, minus the tie and jacket. You didn’t know how he wasn’t freezing in only his white dress shirt. The rooms at the inn were relatively tiny, but the team had all managed to cram into Aaron’s room, who got one to himself this time. They’d all flocked to his room in an attempt to figure out if staying somewhere else was possible, except for you, who had already been there.

You were sitting on the couch in the room next to Aaron as you attempted to help him figure out how this particular unsub was kidnapping his victims. The couch was particularly small, leaving no room between you and him. The entire side of your thigh was pressed against his, warmth radiating off of him despite the cold room.

Aaron sighed, laying down the folder and running a hand across his temple. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands. Everyone, go back to bed. Hopefully the heat will be back on soon.”

“You coming?” Emily, your roommate for the duration of time you would be in North Dakota, asked as everyone filed out of the room.

You shook your head. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to look over this one last time and see if there’s anything I missed.”

Emily told the both of you goodnight and left the room, leaving only you and Aaron still sitting together.

He made you very nervous.

Aaron was older, extremely accomplished, more experienced in the job, and working with him alone was nerve-wracking. You’d proven yourself immensely in the short amount of time you had been a member of the BAU. Still – he was wonderful at everything. The idea of being wrong around him was terrifying.

As you continued to look through everything laid out in front of you, you couldn’t focus. It was so cold to the point where you couldn’t feel the tip of your nose anymore, and you were slightly shivering, crossing your arms in an attempt to warm up a little.

“Looks like I should’ve brought a winter coat to sleep in,” you attempted to joke.

The left corner of Aaron’s mouth tipped upward as he stood up and moved to the small closet. “It is pretty cold, isn’t it?”

Before you knew it, there was a brown blanket being draped across your shoulders.

It wasn’t very thick nor was it very comfortable. In fact, it felt a little scratchy to the touch as it brushed over your bare hands, but Aaron situated it until it was entirely wrapped around you while his body hovered over yours. You stopped breathing momentarily, your heart picking up its pace every time his hands scraped over your own arms. Even through your thick sweatshirt and the blanket, you could still feel his touch.

“Thanks,” you muttered. Your heart rate had gone back down to normal now that he was moving to sit again.

“I can’t have one of my agents going hypothermic,” he joked and gave you one of his rare smiles; the ones that were usually reserved for outside of work.

You weren’t blind – Aaron Hotchner was a gorgeous man, and you wouldn’t deny that just the scent of his very expensive cologne alone was enough to make you feel slightly dizzy.

However, that's all you thought. He was your boss, and you were dealing with a breakup that was still laying heavy on your heart and constantly consumed your thoughts.

But even after the heat started working only half an hour later, you didn’t remove the blanket and temporarily forgot about the person who broke your heart while you worked next to him.

—

Three.

It was six months into your job when you found yourself having one of the worst days ever.

You’d woken up late and to a text from a friend letting you know that the ex you’d been getting over for half a year was now social-media-official with the person they told you not to worry about, you spilled coffee all over your car and your white top resulting in you being even later for work as you had to go back to your apartment and change.

You were a stumbling mess when you finally made it to the conference room for the meeting that you were six minutes late for. All eyes were focused on you as you mumbled apologies and sat down while trying to listen to Aaron’s voice. It was some housekeeping things and maybe you should’ve listened, but your head was elsewhere.

The rest of the day did not go well either. Halfway through the day, you had managed to screw up the fax machine, trip over your own shoes, and give yourself not one but two paper cuts. All of it sounded like minor things – a paper cut shouldn’t have set you off so badly, but it really did.

By the end of the day, you wouldn’t have minded if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole. Once you did one more thing, you would finally be able to go home.

“Come in.”

Aaron’s office was a place that you had grown to not fear so much. In the beginning of your job, every time you had to go in, it almost felt like you were in middle school walking into the principal’s office as he sat there at his desk with a stoic stare and hardly any emotion in his voice.

“I got your email about needing to speak with me,” you told him, coming inside and shutting the door behind you. “What did you need?”

He looked up at you as you moved closer to his desk. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

You frowned. “I thought you said in the email that you needed to speak with me about something important?”

Aaron nodded as if it was no big deal. “You’ve been acting off all day. How you feel is an important thing – even if you think it isn’t. So, are you okay?”

Your heart broke at his kindness. He was always nice to you, maybe nicer than he should’ve been, but calling you into his office just to make sure you were okay after a bad day made you wonder why no one else had ever cared about your feelings like this.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “It’s just been a terrible day.”

Still sitting at his desk with his full attention on you, Aaron asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You wouldn't lie – you did think about his proposal for a moment. There weren't many people for you to talk to. You had friends, but not many in Quantico other than your co-workers. You’d moved alone without knowing anyone, and you worked so much that there was rarely time for you to go out and meet new people.

But Aaron was a busy man. He was probably just offering to be polite – there was no way he cared that much to hear about your miniscule problems when his job was as hectic and busy as it was.

“No, Hotch, I don’t want to keep you here any longer–”

He cut you off. “I’m already here; it doesn’t matter. You can talk to me. I’ve been rather concerned about you.”

At that moment, you couldn’t come up with an excuse as to why the idea of him thinking about you was enough to make your heart flutter.

“It’s… it’s stupid,” you started, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “I had a bad breakup right before I moved to Quantico. My ex didn't really care when I went to the Academy, but they exploded when I told them how I finally got this job. It was constant fighting before they gave me an ultimatum: them or taking the job.”

“And you chose the job?”

You laughed, feeling a little pathetic. “No, at first, I didn’t. They really got it stuck in my head that I wasn’t good enough to do this. I was going to turn it down and stay, but I changed my mind last minute. I found out this morning they’re now with someone else. Then, I was late, I fucked up the fax machine, and I got a couple paper cuts. It’s nothing, really – it was just a bad day.”

Aaron moved around in his seat, leaning back a little and crossing his arms. “It isn’t nothing if it bothers you.”

“I didn’t know you were a therapist,” you tried to joke, squirming awkwardly in your seat. You were already feeling vulnerable and the way he was looking at you wasn’t helping.

“Only part-time,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone – someone may think I have emotions.”

His face was completely stoic when he said it, but as soon as you started to laugh, he joined in.

“Really, though, I’m okay – just exhausted. I think the universe just hates me right now.” You stood up to leave. “I want to beat the rush hour traffic, so I should head out, but thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and you were on your way out while thinking the interaction was over, when he called out your name.

You stopped, hand still grasping the door you were about to open. “Yeah?”

“It’s their loss.”

A frown appeared on your face. “What do you mean?”

“Your ex,” he explained. “You shouldn’t lose sleep over someone who doesn’t know how lovely you are.”

Lovely.

You’d been called a lot of things in your life, probably even some adjectives better than lovely, but the way it just rolled out of Aaron’s mouth as if it was a casual, every-day-like occurrence made you feel warm.

Aaron Hotchner thought you were lovely and knowing that kept a smile on your face for days after while the wounds that had been given to you by someone else slowly healed.

—

Four.

After a year of working with the BAU, you ended up with your first unsub-related injury.

You thought going to the hospital was pointless because you truly felt fine, but both Derek and JJ argued relentlessly for you to go due to the nasty gash on your head. Unfortunately, you were outnumbered and sent to the hospital for an evaluation after the unsub you were after thought it was okay to slam you on the ground a little too hard, resulting in a blow to your head when you went down and hit the concrete.

JJ rode with you to the hospital in the ambulance that you, very much, did not think was necessary. After seeing a doctor, it was determined that you had a concussion. With a thick bandage on your wound and a drive home from JJ who gave you strict rules on taking care of yourself while you healed like the mother she was, you were finally alone in the comfort of your apartment after a long day spent in Manassas – the location of the latest case.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you were starting to feel the symptoms and the sound of knocking on your door felt like nails being drilled into your head.

However, the person standing on the other side when you opened the door made your head spin faster than the concussion did.

Aaron was standing on the other side of the door, one hand holding a brown paper bag with a look of worry on his face. He was dressed casually in a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, nose slightly red from where he had walked through the cold November air to get inside your apartment building.

In other words, he looked very good. It was hard to not grab and kiss him.

You’d developed somewhat of an attraction for your boss since that fateful day in his office. Not that you hadn’t been attracted to him before, but it now felt more like a serious affection and not some small crush – the first time you felt this way about anyone in a long time.

“Hi,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another upon seeing you. “How are you?” He paused after his eyes glanced at the very obvious bandage on your forehead. “Wait, I don’t think that’s an appropriate question right now. I’m sorry.”

You giggled despite the throbbing in your temple, moving to let him into your apartment. “I’m as good as I can be right now. Come on in.”

He walked into your apartment, following you into the kitchen after you shut the door and locked it. Aaron had only been to your apartment once after giving you a ride home from work, but this was the first time he’d ever been inside.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He asked while you got a glass of water.

You nodded slightly, careful to cause any more pain. “Probably, but I can’t get any rest until my medicine kicks in and my head doesn’t feel like it’s about to bust.”

Aaron winced. “I tried to come to the hospital, but JJ had already taken you home by the time I got there, so I came here. I apologize for coming unannounced and so late, but I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You do that a lot,” you told him, leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen. “Making sure I’m okay.”

“I happen to care about you a lot.”

Hiding your smile behind the glass of water, you took a sip before focusing your attention back on the bag he brought with him. “What’s in the bag?”

It seemed as though he had forgotten he was still holding something. He raised it up and held it out to you, an almost-shy look dancing across his face that you’d never seen before on him. “I, um, made a stop at the store for you on my way over. It’s just over-the-counter medicine, extra bandages, and a couple snacks that I know you like. I figured it might help you out since you can’t drive for the next two days.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on your face. It was almost as if every time you thought Aaron couldn’t get any more perfect, he would prove you wrong.

He continued as he sat the bag down on the counter next to you. “I also wanted to tell you that Strauss said take all the time you need to recover.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “She did?”

There was only silence between the two of you as you looked at each other until he shrugged. “Well, I told her that you’re going to be taking all the time off that you need, and she didn’t really say anything so take all the time you need.”

“It’s just a concussion,” you told him. “I’ll be back to work soon.”

“A concussion is a serious thing,” Aaron said with a frown, not liking the way you brushed the injury off as nothing. “I’m glad you’re okay. Morgan said you hit the ground pretty hard before he cuffed the guy.”

You took another sip of your water before sitting it down. “I’m alive and well – Derek was just worried.”

As much as you were enjoying the feeling of talking with Aaron in your kitchen, the heaviness you felt in your eyes reminded you that it was nearly midnight, and you’d had a long day. The yawn that escaped your mouth didn’t go unnoticed.

“I should go and let you get some rest.”

You really didn’t want him to go. There weren't many other opportunities where you would get Aaron in your apartment like this. It felt oddly domestic, and you hated the fact that you loved it so much. But he was right – you did need the rest.

“Thank you again for stopping by,” you told him as the two of you walked the short distance back to the front door. “And for all the stuff you bought. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he said, his hand lingering on the door knob. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

He was opening the door before you called out, “Wait,” your mind flooded with déjà vu from the time he stopped you on your way out of his office.

Aaron paused and turned to look back at you. His body hadn’t left the room yet, but the door was slightly ajar where he opened it.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked over to him and threw your arms around his broad torso engulfed in the softest sweatshirt you’d ever felt.

“Thank you,” you softly said. “Not just for tonight, but for, well, just caring about me.”

He didn’t waste a second reciprocating the hug as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, careful not to get near the bandage on your forehead and further hurt you. He was like a human heater – warm, tall, and you fit perfectly against him.

One hug from Aaron was like a band-aid healing any problem you had – even the external ones. Maybe this was what the placebo effect felt like and if this was it, you wanted it over and over again.

“Of course,” he muttered, arms still locked around you as if he needed this more than you did.

When you finally parted, his cheeks were dusted with a slight red shade as he wore one of his grins that you’d grown to love and receive more often. “Goodnight.”

Even though you had a raging headache and a painful cut on your temple, it had nothing on the big smile you kept on your face even as you drifted off into sleep that night still feeling warm and giddy.

—

Five.

It had been almost two months since you hugged Aaron in your apartment.

Since that night, something changed in the relationship between the two of you. You couldn’t really place your finger on what had changed, but there was a shift. Tension was thick – not in a bad way but in a way where you wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you any time you were alone.

You also had the feeling that he felt the same way. Aaron had been a profiler for many more years than you had been, but you liked to think you were good at your job. You could read him and from the way his eyes watched you, you could tell he was feeling the same tension in the air.

It was New Year’s Eve, and David Rossi had, after a lot of pleading from Penelope, agreed to host a small get-together for the team plus family including Will, Henry, and Jack – the latter two were currently running around the, very expensive, house, which was driving Dave insane as kept watch to make sure nothing got damaged due to the kids.

You were standing outside in the backyard, the late-December air hitting your face as you glanced down at your phone that told you it was almost midnight.

When you thought back to who you were around this time last year – a woman in a new city with a demanding job and hardly any friends, still crying yourself to sleep over someone who didn’t deserve your tears – it made you want to smile.

It had been a little over a year since you started working at the BAU and as you glanced inside through the large glass doors, you felt like you belonged. There was no more doubt, no more tears, and no more days where you wanted to run away.

“What are you doing out here? You’ll freeze to death.” You turned around to find Aaron closing one of the glass doors and moving towards you.

He was wearing a black quarter zip and jeans – a casual outfit but one of your favorites. For reasons that you couldn’t understand, Aaron Hotchner in a quarter zip made you feel things.

“I came out here because it’s cold,” you told Aaron, leaning against a railing and crossing your sweater-covered arms. “It’s so hot and stuffy in there. It’s like Rossi is trying to burn us all alive.”

Aaron laughed and walked over next to you. He leaned against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. “He does keep his house pretty hot.”

“Is Jack having a good time?”

Jack Hotchner was probably your favorite kid you’d ever met. He was a total sweetheart, and you instantly got along with him from the first day you met him.

You didn’t miss the way Aaron’s face lit up a little as you mentioned his son. “Yes, I think so. He’s a big fan of celebrating the New Year because he gets to stay up late.” You then watched his face fall a bit. “He’s been missing his mom a lot lately, so coming here tonight – it’s good for him.”

You knew of Aaron’s ex-wife who had died before you joined the team, and you knew the terrible way that it happened. You’d also heard that it greatly affected Jack and Aaron, even though he hid it more than he should’ve.

“It must be hard on him, but I’m glad he’s having a good time tonight.”

Aaron smiled. “He loves the team, but I think you’re his favorite.”

You grinned. “No way! I’m honored.”

A comfortable silence grew between the two of you with no sounds other than distinct chatter and laughs from inside of the house. You glanced over to Aaron who was pulling out his phone.

“Eleven fifty-eight,” he said. “You want to head back inside and watch the ball drop?”

You almost said yes at first because you actually did want to see the ball drop, but you also wanted a moment alone with Aaron considering you rarely got them in a setting outside of work. Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t care – a few more minutes with him wouldn’t hurt. “I think I’m going to stay out here.”

He didn’t say anything. Aaron kept his phone out so the two of you could keep an eye on the clock app, its tiny, orange hand moving around the twelve, now signalizing that it was eleven fifty-nine.

Your eyes kept watch on the clock as it got closer to passing twelve again. You were starting to get nervous. A part of you expected Aaron to go inside after you told him you weren’t going back in – it wasn’t like he was obligated to stay out in the cold with you.

However, he never went back inside and as the clock kept getting closer to midnight, only seconds away now, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were: the traditional New Year’s kiss.

You discretely searched for any sign on his face that gave away if he was going to kiss you or not. You so desperately wanted it but if he wasn’t thinking the same thing, there was no way you were going to embarrass yourself by trying to kiss him.

Ten.

Still no sign – you were starting to panic a little.

Nine.

What were you supposed to do?

Eight.

Would he rather have a handshake? He did have a pretty firm grip.

Seven.

No, screw a handshake. Who gives someone a handshake at midnight on New Year’s?

Six.

He put down his phone and was starting to turn toward you.

Five.

Was he actually going to kiss you?

Four.

“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, but can I kiss you?”

Three.

You couldn’t form words, only a nod, eyes slightly widened.

Two.

He was moving his hand up to your cheek and, oh dear, this was actually going to happen.

One.

Aaron’s lips were warm against yours, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever been kissed with so much delicacy. He was gentle and respectful. Your hands pressed against his chest before you finally moved them up to the nape of his neck under the collar of the quarter zip you loved so much, pulling him even closer to you.

You felt secure and safe pressed up tightly against him with one hand of his cupping your jaw as the other rested firmly on your lower back. Your mouth was opening up before you could even stop it. Aaron smiled against your lips as he felt it before he deepened the kiss.

This time, he was kissing you much more firmly and with the feeling of his tongue moving against yours, you couldn’t remember the last time, or if ever, you felt the way you did. His hand pressed even harder against your back, making you inhale sharply during the kiss.

There was a time in your life when you thought you would never find someone else – that maybe you were destined to be alone all because of one person who didn’t see your worth, but Aaron made all the pain go away to the point where you hadn’t thought of the person who hurt you in months.

Aaron made you feel like you were floating all the time. He reminded you of your worth instead of breaking you down. He was a man who did both the small things like throwing a blanket around your cold body and the big things like bringing you snacks and medicine after a hit to the head – the definition of “if he wanted to, he would” in the best way possible.

“Hey! You guys missed the – holy shit!”

You flung yourself off Aaron and looked behind him to see Emily standing there, her mouth wide open. You’d never seen her utterly speechless like she was at the moment. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, glancing back and forth between the two of you before she finally found something to say.

“Morgan and Reid owe me fifty bucks.”

—

(+) One.

It was three months into Aaron Hotchner’s relationship with you when he knew with absolute certainty that he loved you.

His job was difficult, and today was no different but instead of shaking it off before going home, he couldn’t help but feel a cloud of emotion follow him all the way back home to his apartment.

He knew that you were waiting on him because the two of you were supposed to have dinner. You’d gotten to leave at a reasonable time and not, he glanced down at his watch, at nine at night. Aaron had a lot of duties and responsibilities as Unit Chief, but he sometimes wished he didn’t in order to come home at a normal hour.

Aaron saw you sitting on his couch as soon as he unlocked and opened his front door. You smiled sweetly as you looked over at him, no trace of frustration or anger at how late he was getting home.

“Everything go okay with those reports? I know Strauss was giving you a hard time,” You said as you glanced back down at your phone you were holding. When he didn’t answer, he saw you look back up at him again but this time with a frown on your face.

He knew the look he had on his face was giving him away, but he just couldn’t force himself to not feel the way that he was feeling.

You put your phone down on the coffee table and stood up to move in front of him. “Are you okay?”

“That’s usually my line to you,” he attempted a joke, but it never reached his eyes.

You responded with a half-smile. “Bad evening?”

Aaron nodded, not saying anything further. You moved closer as you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, honey,” he said, instantly feeling a little better just from your touch. “I missed dinner. I’m not the one who should be upset.”

You pulled back and rested both hands on each side of his face as he kept his situated on your waist. “Someone told me once that how you feel is an important thing even if you think it isn’t.”

He chuckled a bit. “Using my own words against me, huh?”

You cracked a smile. “It’s okay that you missed dinner. I know you had a rough and busy evening. Don’t worry about me. We can have dinner another night – it’s not a big deal that you couldn’t make it.”

You were looking at him so sincerely and touching him with so much care that he couldn’t help but pull you back in again, eyes closing at the feeling of another hug from you.

“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled to him. “You look like you could go for an early night.”

Aaron wasn’t sure what he did to deserve someone as good as you – someone who cared for him even on days when he didn’t care for himself. You were kind, understanding, and patient. Sometimes he couldn’t even believe he was lucky enough to be with someone like you.

So while he wasn’t sure of how deserving he really was, he was one hundred percent sure of the fact that he loved you and your lovely self.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner

642 notes · View notes

longing-for-rain · 5 months ago

Text

Ember Island Players…Racist Caricatures or Meta Commentary?

This episode was supposed to be a fun filler episode to recap the events of the show in a silly way before the series finale, but it’s managed to become arguably one of the most controversial episodes in the fandom. Over the years, Aang’s possessive behavior towards Katara has been rightfully criticized, but there are always people who attempt to justify everything Aang does.

Apparently, the latest iteration of this is the claim that—wait for it—we should be sympathetic towards Aang and give him a pass in The Ember Island Players because he felt “emasculated” due to the supposed “feminization” of his culture.

I’ve been called racist for saying this is a reach, but it’s more than a reach. It’s an entire acrobatics routine; a level of media illiteracy that shows a lack of understanding of the point of that episode.

Yes, Aang’s character is portrayed in a silly, mocking way. So are all of the other characters. That’s the point; the episode was a filler, a gimmick, and the underlying comedy is the fact that all of the characters are reacting to exaggerated, one-dimensional versions of their own personalities.

For example:

Katara is portrayed as an “overemotional crybaby” in her own words, and is constantly giving motivational speeches and crying

Sokka’s “comedic relief” archetype is played up to the point his lines are just corny one-liners

Zuko is portrayed as an angsty, whiny pretty-boy who acts like a bratty asshole at all times

Toph is a huge buff guy (although in this case, it’s a play on how her character was originally going to be a “jock” type male character)

As for Aang? He’s portrayed as unserious, goofy, and childish. Which—just like all the others—is a jokey exaggeration of his childish demeanor and nature. He’s not even alone in taking offense to his portrayal. All of the characters aside from Toph hate their characters for largely the same reason. They’re being confronted with aspects of themselves that make them insecure. For Aang, it’s his immaturity—and specifically his fears that he’ll be rejected by Katara.

As for why Aang is played by a woman? Well, we don’t actually have to wonder about that, because the creators themselves answer this question in the episode commentary.

Bryan: “It's sort of a self-referential joke. Whenever you do a animated show, they usually want to cast, uh, women...who are, like, in their thirties to play boys, because you never know how long the show is gonna go on, and, you know, as Jack mentioned earlier, boys' voices start cracking.” (source)

Wow, imagine that! An inside joke about the cartoon industry in a show’s meta-episode dedicated to making fun of itself? Impossible!

I’m serious though. The episode transcript is right here. Point me to where exactly there is even the slightest hint of anyone bringing up Aang’s culture and tying his childish behavior to it.

That’s right; it isn’t there. Because that wasn’t the point. Aang’s anger did stem from feeling emasculated, but it had nothing to do with culture and everything to do with his own misogynistic attitudes. He was offended at his portrayal on an individual level. I’m not denying that the issue of oppressive nations using femininity as an insult against men of colonized nations is a very real issue, but that was never a theme present in this episode. We don’t see Aang expressing anger towards the Fire Nation, nor do we see him mention anything about culture. What we see is Aang, individually, feeling insulting that his actor is female and Aang being angry at Katara, individually, because the play suggested she felt more attracted to Zuko than him.

Trying to downplay Aang’s behavior and suggest we coddle him despite his atrocious treatment of Katara is a disingenuous reading of the episode.

Why are you reaching to make an excuse for Aang when if you’re really taking the “the point of the episode is that the play is racially demeaning the characters” angle…and why are you not bringing up Sokka? He’s portrayed as a dumb oaf who is always talking about eating meat. There is a much stronger argument to be made there about caricatures, but Sokka isn’t threatening anyone’s ship so apparently nobody cares.

And while we’re talking about caricatures, how about this crap?

Sorry, Aang stans, but this show and Aang’s character aren’t the enlightened portrayals of anti-colonialism and groundbreaking activism you think they are. It’s pretty clear from the context and the episode itself what the intention here was. It is poorly aged comedy from the early 2000s written by white Americans. And we will continue to critique that, thanks.

#atla #meta #fandom salt #anti kataang #aang critical #canon critical #zutara #ember island players #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #sokka

153 notes · View notes

notafunkiller · 1 year ago

Text

treat you better

Summary: Caught between playing the girlfriend of Bucky's younger brother and the unexpected allure of Bucky's genuine affection, you don't know what to do.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend's brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.7K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, so this is just the beginning. And I also want to thank @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for their support!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

It’s hard to ignore how loudly he chews or how some water drips down his chin as he drinks between bites. For someone educated well, he has no manners.

“Come on, eat faster. He’s gonna come any second.”

You drop your fork on the plate and give him a look. As if! “I am not gonna do anything like that.”

He is his brother, not the devil. And he actually seemed pretty nice when you met earlier. The fact that William is so scared is funny.

“You don’t ever listen to me.”

“I wonder why.” Your sarcastic answer gets a sigh out of him before he stands up, throwing a napkin on the plate.

“I’ll take a walk.”

“And? Do you want my approval?” You literally couldn’t care less what he does or doesn’t. He’s annoying.

“No, I told you in case he comes down...”

You can’t imagine dealing with this version of him for days, or however long The Devil decides to stay. You snort. “Go ahead, take a walk. Take three walks, I can handle myself.”

He leaves without saying anything else, and you smile, scrolling on your Instagram feed. Fucking finally!

You don’t know how your families considered this a good idea. You are close to hitting him every day, but it seems like things only become worse and worse. You just wish you could just run away and never come back.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

You look up, jumping. It must be ridiculous to be so shocked since he’s the only one who could come here since William left. You let the phone down and wave to the chair in front of you.

“Please, this is your house.”

The Devil gives you a polite smile. Manners... at least one brother has them. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t eat me, right?”

He gives you a look you can’t exactly decode, and that bothers you. You are good at reading people usually.

“No, love, I won’t eat you.” He sits down amused, and you stare at his arms as he reaches for the chicken plate without realizing. He’s... big.

“Bon appetit!” You smile.

“I didn’t say I won’t bite, though.”

You freeze, thinking he is flirting with you for a second. But it’s ridiculous, there’s no way. Everyone spoke so highly of him: how he is always serious, how he’d be against this whole arrangement. No way he’d flirt with his little brother’s girlfriend. “Is the chicken not enough for you?”

He laughs softly, and you can’t help but stare at him a little more. He shaved and has a small cut right under his chin. Jesus, he is really hot! The little dimple, the eyes and that nose...

“Do what do you do?”

“As in for work?”

“Yep.” He empathizes the p in a very childlike way, which makes you wonder even more how old he is. You should totally ask William later.

“I work for my parents’ company,” you whisper ashamed. You always hate when you say that out loud, but, somehow, it feels even more embarrassing now. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t look at him.

“What do you do there?”

“Basic HR work.”

“Is the payment that low?”

You snort. “What?”

“You sounded, so I assumed...”

“It is a little low, not gonna lie. But I mean, no nepo baby judgement…?” You hesitate because you realize you don’t remember his name. Fuck! You and your bad memory.

“What? Why are you blushing?” He leans in, placing his elbows on the table to get closer to you.

How horrible can this situation get?

“I just... can I ask something?”

“I don’t know, love, can you?”

You roll your eyes. You know what? He deserves it.

“What was your name again?”

He doesn’t seem surprised or bothered by your question.

“Full name? James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. Should I write it down in case you forget?”

He gently takes out a pen out of his front pocket and grabs your hand. You tremble a little as he starts to actually write his name on your wrist. The letters get a little smudged, but they’re still clear.

Holy fuck...

He’s warm, but not too warm, so you wait for him to let you go.

“Do you always carry pens around?”

“Only on special occasions.” He winks and gets back to eating, letting the pen on the table.

“How old are you?” You ask before you can change your mind as you keep staring at your wrist. He looks in his early 30s, and since he’s the oldest one, it would make sense.

“Didn’t Will tell you?”

You blush again. “You can see my memory isn’t the best.”

He sighs, suddenly shy and reserved, and you wonder if this is somehow a weak spot. But how would age be a weak spot for a man like this?

“Old.” He smiles. “Thirty-eight.”

You try not to look affected as your eyes drop instantly on his left hand. No wedding band.

And he notices.

“He didn’t tell you I’m single, either?”

You take a few slices of cucumber and eat them fast. “Why would he?”

“I’m his brother.”

You throat feels dry as you nervously swallow. “And I am his girlfriend...”

Bucky nods and immediately starts eating.

“That’s all?” You ask. “No threat not to hurt your brother? No background questions?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“I would have guessed twenty-five.”

You snort. “Really? I was told I look younger than that.”

Bucky shrugs in response. “I assumed you’ve been working for a while, and my brother likes them his age or older.” He pours himself a glass of water, and you watch him drink without any shame, not even caring if he notices. You’re already flushed, and he’s a good view.

“I guess I fit the standard.”

He bites his lip while placing the glass down and shakes his head. “Nope, actually you don’t, this is why it’s really interesting.” He smiles. “How did you two meet?”

“The office. He came with his... your dad and we met at an event,” you answer instantly. Your parents have already made up the story for you, and you had to practice it a few times to make it sound genuine, which was a real struggle.

“Was it love at first sight?”

You snort. “That doesn’t exist.”

“Attraction?”

You try to subtly take a deep breath and pray you’ll sound as convincing as you could. “Look, he seemed like a nice guy, good looking and smart. And he asked me out-”

“He asked you out?” His eyes widen in sheer astonishment. “He always waits for girls to ask him out.”

This is when you snap. What is this? An interrogation?

“And? He asked me out. People make exceptions sometimes, Mr...” you pretend you forgot his name again before you look at your wrist. “Bucky.”

“I understand. My bad, didn’t want to make you mad.”

You puff because his tone in everything but apologetic. “I am not mad!”

“No, obviously. Just like you didn’t pretend you don’t remember my name a second ago.”

You bite your cheek annoyed. “Do you not have something more important to do than this?” You gesture between you two.

Not a smart move, but you are exposed anyway.

“But this,” he copies your hands moves. “is fun. And I am just getting to know my little brother’s girl. Since we’ll live together and stuff.”

What?

“You plan on staying?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Of course.” He smiles. “Where is William? I want to know more about how he asked you out.”

You can’t say you’ve been avoiding William, but you’re not necessarily enjoying his company. Since Bucky came, he’s been like a bomb, scared, annoyed, always suggesting you to move in his room because his brother will notice, but you brushed him off constantly.

Unfortunately, you can’t tell him to go away now, too, as he drinks coffee in his gazebo.

“Do you want to go out? For a walk or lunch,” he asks, his voice carrying a hopeful note

“No, thanks.” You don’t intend to sound rude, but it comes out like this anyway.

His face falls, a subtle disappointment etched across his features, but he tries to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. Instantly, a pang of guilt hits you.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just... I just don’t feel like going out.” With you.

“Well, you should at least try to make an effort, we should be seen together, you know?” he remarks, his tone slightly reproachful. You nod, realizing he must be also pressured by his family the same way yours pressures you.

“I understand. I assume they put pressure on you.”

He sighs. “Of course they do, but like I think it’s a good idea.”

“What’s a good idea?”

You know it’s Bucky not only by the way William stiffens, but you can also easily recognize his voice, and it’s hard to ignore how attractive you find it.

“To go out more often,” you quickly say, avoiding his eyes. “I told him he should have fun since work has been stressful.”

“What about you?” He casually drops on the chair between you two and takes a bite from his sandwich.

“What about her?” William asks, , his tension evident in his voice.

“Don’t you need some stress relief?”

“I’m alright.” You finally look properly at him as you speak. He’s wearing a white tank top and his disheveled hair adds to the casual allure. He’s so well-proportioned...

“Good.” He smiles and turns to William. “What’s wrong, punk?”

“Just work, you know? Business, you wouldn’t understand.”

You and Bucky snort.

“Sure, buddy, I wouldn’t understand.”

“Are you having siblings time? Should I leave?” you ask, hoping for a positive response.

“Babe, no need.”

You try not to cringe at the way the word babe sounds coming from him and force yourself to give him a polite smile.

“Please, babe, no problem.” You stand up waving, toward Bucky. “Bye.”

Their brotherly time didn’t last long, though. You take a short shower, and as you finish dressing up, you hear a knock on your door.

“You can come in.”

You expect to see William's face when the door cracks, but no, it's not him at all.

“Hi.”

You freeze.

“H-hi.”

Fuck, what will you tell him now?

“Trouble in paradise?”

“What? No. Uhm...” you look around. “What happened?”

“You sleep here, right?”

“Yep.”

He leans his back against the wall, and you can't help but notice how good he looks in those shorts. Jesus, it's like you haven't seen a man in your life.

“Interesting.” He laughs.

“What’s so funny?” You cross your arms, annoyed. He thinks he’s superior or what?

“You are telling me you two have been together for less than six months and you sleep here?”

The judgement and amusement in his voice piss you off even more, as if the situation you are in isn’t bad enough.

“Yes, and?”

“And?” Bucky comes suddenly closer to you. “Are you seriously asking that?”

“Yes! I don’t see what’s your fucking problem. How does where we sleep concern you?”

“Can’t a man be curious?”

Fuck your curiosity!

“What if we didn’t wanna sleep together now and wait... does that make us less of a couple?” You let out your anger by screaming at him. You don’t think you’ve said anything more ridiculous than that because, sure, you respect everyone who wants to wait, but that’s not you. There's no way you'd get engaged or marry a guy without knowing what your sex life would be like. No way!

“I didn’t say that, but I know my brother, and he is not this type of person.”

You let a deep breath, finding it hard to take your eyes off his lips.

“What if I am?”

He doesn't answer you, simply moving his right hand to his back pocket and taking out a small perfume, then handing it to you. "I think this belongs to you."

Shit!

“Yes, thank you!”

“So you slept in my bed.”

The way he says it makes it sound like you had sex with him or something. But it still leaves you breathless.

You take the perfume from his hand. “Don’t worry, I changed the sheets.”

“See you at dinner, love.” He snorts, turning a little more toward you before opening the door. “You got taste, though. It smells wonderful.”

Maybe it’s the hunger or the lack of sleep. Otherwise, why would this make you angry?

“You look very well.” You roll your eyes as you imitate him before taking a sip of your water. Fuck him for coming here and disturbing you. It was enough you see him every morning and after work.

You hear a knock, then the door opens as soon as you put your bottle down. He didn’t even wait.

“Hi, love. How are you?” A few heads turn toward him and then you, and you groan.

“I’m well, thanks. Why are you here?”

Bucky shakes his head. “This is not a nice welcome.” And then he notices everyone. “Hello.”

You hear a few ‘hi’s, but he only focuses on you.

“Who are you waiting for?” You ask, and your thoughts immediately dart to Dana. He complimented her earlier, after all.

“My dad.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, keep it a secret. I don’t care.”

“I’m serious.” He snorts. “What has gotten you so worked up? Did you eat your chocolate bar today?”

You puff, trying to keep your annoyance under control. “What’s this question? Are you my mom?”

You can't lie, though. The fact that he noticed your daily chocolate bar ritual makes you happy. Today, however, you didn't have time.

“I can be your dad.”

That makes you gasp.

“Bucky!” you whisper, and he leans in. “We are working here.”

“And?”

“And go away, you disturb us.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and gets behind your back, dragging your chair away from the desk.

“Barnes!”

Jessica laughs behind you. “Such an older brother behavior.” she says casually, and you frown. You don’t want people to consider him your older brother. Well, it’s obvious why they do, but it still bothers you.

“I need you to come with me.”

You sigh. “Don’t you see I am busy?”

“Come onnn!”

You tell Jessica you’ll be right back and manage to take your phone with you before Bucky drags you by the arm to the hallway. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn’t even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad’s office. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn't even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad's office.

“You brought me here to be your babysitter? You are 38, not 8. I am sure you can wait patiently for your daddy.”

He closes the door, and you try to control your breathing. Why does he make you blush so much? It’s been one month since you two met, and he still has this power over you.

“You have a big sassy mouth, love, that is for sure.”

You cross your hands. “And?”

“And what?”

“You won’t even deny you brought me here cause you were bored?”

“Nope. Why would I?”

And there he is, getting closer to you little by little. You have to fight the urge to step back.

“Instead you talk about how big my mouth is...” you murmur and he snorts.

“Quite a big mouth for someone with thin lips.”

Well, that is a low blow. You don’t even have thin-thin lips.

“You’re an asshole.” You try to leave quickly, but he stops you instantly, realizing that made you mad.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way at all. You have a spark.”

“I am working. I do actually work, Bucky. It doesn’t matter this is my family’s company.” You try not to yell, but it’s hard. “I get you’re bored, but-”

“I am sorry.”

“For what?” You voice is a whisper, as you’re still trying to calm down. You’re surprised he apologized so fast.

“For being like a douche. It’s the opposite, I wanted your company because you are really nice and smart. I love our conversations. And you having a big mouth means to me you have an opinion and limits.” He takes your hand and squeezes it.

As he speaks, you can't help but feel a mixture of warmth and confusion. His sincerity catches you off guard, and the tension between you begins to shift. Maybe, just maybe, there's more beneath the surface of his teasing and provocation.

You nod. Maybe you overreacted, he never said anything offensive to you. And you appreciate his company in that house.

“It’s okay, I understand. I am surprised you are here, though.”

He doesn’t let go of you hand, so you don’t either.

“He said he has an offer for the office renovation.” He shrugs. “I cannot refuse without talking first. It wouldn’t be fair.”

You want to answer him, tease and maybe fish for more, but you hear the voices right outside the office and you let go of his hand immediately. As if it burned you, as if you were doing something forbidden.

William steps inside first, followed by his dad and your dad, surprisingly.

Bucky immediately gives you a look and takes a step back.

“You came!” His father welcomed him before turning to you. “Thanks for bringing him to my office.”

You realize this is your clue to go and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and kissing your cheek.You realize this is your cue to go, and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and then kissing your cheek.

“Thanks, babe.”

You have to clench both of your fists not to punch him in the face, refusing to answer him. You don’t know what bothers you more: the fact that he touched you so casually and called you babe again or that he did this shit in front of your families, and more important his brother.

You feel Bucky’s eyes all over your back and face and you can’t help but turn to look at him. He’s expressionless.

You shake your head. What did you expect?

You get back to your office a little grumpy and upset. Jessica immediately asks you if you’re okay, and you brush it off. Fuck your family, fuck Bucky, and fuck his brother.

But the meeting is surprisingly short since you have Bucky back at your desk fifteen minutes later.

You just can’t take a break, can you?

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you have lunch?” He looks around to emphasize his words, and you roll your eyes. You know everyone left but you.

“I have to finish a few tasks. Why?”

“Your boyfriend left the meeting halfway through cause he was hungry.”

You almost gag. You’ve never hated that word more in your life, but you can’t let him know that.

“And?”

“What do you mean and? Why are you not having lunch with him?”

“Because I have tasks to do!” You snap, irritate, while looking him in the eye. You obviously don’t want to talk about it, but he continues, seemingly unfazed.

“Is he gonna bring you some food?”

“No, we didn’t even talk about it. Can you leave me alone now?”

You are so close to crying for no fucking reason. You can’t let anyone see you like this.

“Prick! He should have waited for you.” He strokes his chin as he speaks, clearly annoyed with his brother. “Want to come with-”

“I’m fine. Had my chocolate bar.” You interrupt him, your voice steady despite the emotional storm within. Finally, he takes the hint.

“Okay, love, I understand. I’ll leave you alone. See you home.” He smiles politely and leaves, giving you the space you need.

Alone in your office, you let out a shaky breath, your hands covering your face as you start sobbing. It’s really touching how understanding Bucky is, even if he’s teasing you. It’s a precious reminder that, amidst the chaos, there's someone who actually cares about your well-being.

You wait for William to return from his lunch break, and as soon as you see him, you drag him to his office quickly

“Easy! It hurts.”

“Good, it’s supposed to hurt!”

“What did I do?” He genuinely asks.

“You fucking touched me. You kissed my cheek. Did I allow you?”

“What?” He raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t remember seeing you so angry before.

“I asked you when I gave you permission to put your hands on me!”

“I’m supposed to be your boy-”

“But you are not my fucking boyfriend! You don’t have the option to touch me unless I let you by telling you that you can. And you don’t even have to display a shitty facade because guess what? He doesn’t care.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to...”

“You didn’t mean to what? Get in my space? Take advantage of the situation?” The bitterness in your tone echoes your frustration. “You’re just a man, that’s what you do.”

“Not all-”

You laugh humorlessly, not even a little surprised. “Not all men, right? Well, I heard that one before. But you are officially in all-men category.”

You leave like a storm, letting the door open, and before you can get back to your desk, Dana calls your name.

“Hi, what happened?” You try to sound calm.

“You got a delivery and a note.” She hands them both to you and you can’t help but ask:

“A note?”

Who writes notes anymore?

“Yes.”

You take them from her desk, but you don’t enter your office. You want to read the note first, without Jessica’s eyes on you.

If you don’t eat, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence. So think twice before refusing :)

You almost cry again right there in the middle of the hallway. Fuck him! Just fuck him!

How are you supposed to stop thinking about him when he does this?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes #fake dating #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #my stories #my fanfics #sebastian stan

794 notes · View notes

killsaki · 2 years ago

Text

implode — there’s only so many feelings one can hold in, especially with bakugou blood in their veins.

bakugou katsuki x little sister!reader

6.7k | minors dni | read on ao3

cw / tw : incest, drugging, hinted noncon gangbang, scummy!denki+sero+kiri, aphrodisiac, weed, alcohol, fingering, creampie, reader calls bkg ‘bubba’.

is it hard being the sibling of a prohero?

of course! they disappear for days to weeks at a time—leaving for training, meetings, press events, and then for missions. you go from having them all to yourself, to sharing them with the world. from being their number one fan, to merely feeling like one amongst a million. and there’s so many things to worry about, from them going to work and never coming home, to a villain coming after you out of spite of being captured by said sibling.

those all sound logical answers to the question, normal ones. hence why you’ve practiced saying them so many times in case anyone ever asks.

but, truly, you knew most of those were things you’d never have to worry about. not when you’re the younger sister of none other than bakugou katsuki.

your brother being, well.. himself, was enough to keep any thoughts of danger from your mind. he was too fast, too strong, too skilled, too protective for anything to ever happen to either of you. but this peace of mind only gives room for you to dwell on other things.

like the social media ‘famous’ girls who just don’t shut up about how hot your brother is—which shouldn’t bother you so much, not in the stomach churning, phone gripping way that it does. and you could blame your intense reactions on the fact that you have to see it literally every time you try to scroll down your timeline, or that it’s just weird that your brother is suddenly getting so much attention.. but that's less believable than the first excuse to you.

and then there’s the out of context candids posted in tabloids of him saving civilians, who understandably look at him so longingly, and then there’s a picture painted of him as some kind of bachelor. to make matters worse, said online articles become almost impossible to escape no matter how much you try—partially thanks to your old school ‘friends’ sending them to you asking for all the details to share with their group chats, as if you’d tell them.

to top everything off, your brother, as doting as he is, never has time for you anymore. despite how you live with him, have your own room and bath in his unnecessarily large condo, and even have a card to his bank account for anything you could possibly need—still, you rarely see him. he’s so consumed in his work, from partols to missions, and when he’s not on the clock he’s forced to do press and modeling for whatever goodies they want to slap his picture onto.

and you could never hold that against him, not when he’s been working towards this his whole life. but still, having just a moment with him could cure all the thoughts that hang heavy in your mind daily. just a second to be reminded that your brother is yours, all alone. that you’re the only little sister he’ll ever have, the only girl he’ll ever need.

luckily for you, a day comes that your brother gets a day's break—more like he’s forced into a vacation as he never takes any days off. and he’s able to lounge about, meaning that he’s sitting on the couch in sweats and bouncing his leg waiting for someone to call his phone saying he can finally come to work as if being away from it was excruciating. you could giggle at the thought, what person besides katsuki would rather be out fighting petty criminals than relaxing on their own couch.

“did you hear me?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looks over at you.

you shake your head, too caught up in your thoughts to realize he was even speaking to you.

“the guys want me to go over for a bit. i won’t be gone long.” he repeats before turning back to his phone screen as he finishes typing.

your heart jumps into your throat. tonight was exactly what you’d been longing for, time with just the two of you, so you could reassure yourself the importance of the role you have in his life. so that you could have katsuki all to yourself. so that you could pretend for just a little while, that he’s just your brother again, not the hero you have to share with the world.

“i wanna go too.” you spit without thought.

he shoots you another look, lifting a brow as he blinks at you. “i want to come hang out too.” you say again as you chew at your lip, unable to back out of the situation your loud mouth has already gotten you into.

“no.” he replies back coldly, pushing himself from the couch before stretching his arms up, revealing the bottom of his toned stomach as he does so. “there’s going to be a lot of people, and drinking.” he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes before mumbling on. “and denki’s gonna be there.”

you snap your gaze up to him in confusion about the mention of a certain friend of his. but, he doesn’t let you get any questions out, heading off towards his room to get ready to leave. you pad right behind him, arms crossed while you walk, letting out huffs every few minutes just to remind him how you’re not going to give up. you sit on his bed as he collects an outfit to wear and little things he needs for a shower, noticing how he avoids making any glances in your direction.

it’s not until he’s already fully showered and starting to dress himself that he cracks, groaning as he looks at you.

“go fuckin’ get dressed.” he orders with out any actual malice in his tone. “once i get in the car, i’m leaving.”

your brother is many things, but a liar is not one.

so, you race to your room, tearing into your dresser to slip into that one outfit you’d been holding onto, hoping to wear the next time you’d gotten the chance to go on an outing with katsuki. though, you’d pictured something with more room for alone time, you suppose it would work at a party with his old friends too.

you’d just finished touching up what you need in the mirror as you hear his car engine start up, giving you only seconds to force yourself into your shoes and jog out to his car.

“you stay by my side until we leave.” he looks over at you, while you reach over your shoulder for the seatbelt, his crimson eyes squinted warningly. “i mean it.”

he didn’t mean it.

it’s not even half an hour after you arrive, barely finished shoving your way through the sweaty bodies crowded in someone’s living space, hardly enough time enough to adjust your ears to the shitty music and screams of laughter—something catches your brother's eye, to which he leaves you in the hands of his old classmate. ‘be back in a minute’, he says, pushing you into the red head’s side. but it’s not a minute, it’s been thirty and you haven’t managed to spot the blonde mess of a head, not even from your seat on the kitchen’s counter over the crowd merely feet away.

“what’s wrong?” kirishima raises his eyebrows slightly at you from behind his solo cup.

“just expected to be with kats’,” you huff, fingers twiddling with the end of your skirt. “kinda the only reason i came.”

he nods, glancing down into his drink before peering over his shoulder.

“want a sip?”

you know that you shouldn’t, how mad your brother will get at the both of you if he shows up to find you wasted and slung over his best friend.

“it’ll help you relax, at least until he gets back. i won’t let you drink too much, i promise.”

you can’t resist the small smile he gives. he’s so warm, safe. being with him is almost the same as being with katsuki, almost.

one sip turns into two cups, and suddenly it’s not just you and eijiro anymore. sero and denki showed up somewhere along the way. but, it’s fine, you think. they’re heroes alongside your brother, and they’ve known him long enough to know any better. only, in your slurred thoughts, that voice in the back of your mind starts to hope otherwise.

they’re all undoubtedly handsome, the three of them much taller than you despite the height difference amongst themselves, and all so strong. there’s sero with his shaggy black hair, signature grin and pretty ring clad fingers that grip the cup he’d been babysitting since he’d walked over. denki and his pretty pink lips he never stops running his tongue over, his slightly whiney voice and golden eyes that just get so much deeper when he looks at you. and then of course, kirishima, who’s just so unreasonably big, length and width—wait, that's… not the right words. but now you wonder—

“what are you smiling about?” the blonde asks from where he’s propped on the kitchen’s island across from you.

you shake your head, biting your lips when you realize how caught up in your thoughts you let yourself get with them still right in front of you.

“i was just thinking.” you let out, trying to look anywhere but at kirishima.

“thinking about?” the voice pipes in from beside you, resting his head on your arm as he leans back to look up at you. your heart races a bit when you can physically feel how close he’s gotten to you without you realizing.

“yeah, you’ve been so quiet. not really living up to the bakugou name.” sero shakes his head with fake disapproval.

“my brother’s not that loud.” you giggle, knowing it's a lie before it even hits your tongue. “i was just thinking about how i never see you guys, you’re so different than you were when i met you back at the graduation.” you sigh. “he never lets me go out with him when you guys invite him.”

you miss the look that hanta and kaminari share, how the corners of the blonde's mouth perk up for a split second before he paints on a confused expression.

“when do we invite him out?” he asks, tilting his head slightly when you look up at him.

you nearly mimic the movement when you register his words.

“always?..” you ask, but glancing at the dark haired man and the red head who share the same confused expression, you don't need an answer. “but he… i’m so confused.”

you can only blink, staring at the black side of the fridge, thinking back on the rare nights that he gets off with enough time to do anything besides shower and sleep. how he’d knock on your door, letting you know he was running over to one of ‘the guys’ house before it got too late. he was never gone too terribly long, but that’s just how your brother is. you always thought he literally only went to say hi and came home—wanting to get enough sleep for another full day of hero work. that’s the only thing that made any sense.

“hey, don’t worry about it.” kirishima’s large hand has somehow found its way to rub soothingly at your side, arm now wrapped behind your back.

“i’m sure he could’ve meant midoriya or something.” denki still wears a straight face, speaking with faulty concern.

sero stays quiet while he pulls out his phone, scrolling through something and finally starting to sip out of his cup.

“i should go try to find him.” you go to slide off the counter when denki speaks up again.

“i think you should stay with us.”

the words send a gut wrenching feeling to your core, your body screams to get away, but you fight it.

“why?” you dumbly ask, the smallest bit of curiosity keeping you.

“your brother’s busy.” he shrugs, bumping sero’s shoulder with his own.

the long fingers you were admiring minutes ago faint against yours as he hands you his phone, the screen showing a man you recognize unmistakingly as your brother, dressed in the outfit he’d worn tonight. his arm snug around some girl's lower back, ducked down with his mouth to her ear, the camera’s quality is shitty but even so, you can still see the way their bodies are pressed together. you feel your heart sink, though, you’re not entirely sure why.

you let yourself get slotted back into kirishima’s side, finding a sense of comfort in the weight of his arm around your shoulder as they walk you to the glass doors at the back of the house.

“don’t looked so bummed little baku’!” denki shoots you a grin. “we’ll keep you entertained for the night.”

the air is warm outside, not helping to cool your cheeks that are still hot from the alcohol. the four of you end up sitting on some cushioned benches near the middle of the yard, surrounded by small bushes. it’s much nicer than being inside, but you’re not entirely sure why they brought you out here. not until sero pulls out something rolled and a lighter. you watch as he puts it between his lips, lighting the end and inhaling til the end burns red without the flame. you forget to look away whenever he exhales, giving him the chance to catch you watching him.

“you want to hit it?” his voice suddenly sounds like silk, acting like ties as it’s doing everything to pull you in despite the way your nerves are still screaming at you.

“i’ve never smoked before.” you laugh awkwardly. “my brother would kill me.”

he flashes that big toothy grin, shaking his head for the who-knows-what time that night and you know you’re in for it whenever you see your brother again. but just for this second, you think it’ll be okay.. if he’s busy with some girl when he told you he’d be by your side for the night, then you can have fun with his cute friends.

“he doesn’t have to know.” sero pulls you back to the moment in front of you. “come here, i’ll teach you.”

you’re moving without thinking, giggling again at the way he shoo’s denki from beside him so that you can sit. he teaches you how to breathe it in easily, but how not to take too much. and you do exactly as he says, letting him put it on your lips, you pull in a slow but shallow drag. holding it until he tells you to let it out.

“good girl.” hanta smirks, the warmth of his hand holding your jaw as he moves the damp paper back to your mouth. “now do it again, just like that.”

you listen, thinking nothing of it. thinking nothing at all, actually. you can’t. the flood of warmth lingering in your veins from those drinks that you’re just realising were much stronger than you thought and the clouds now fogging your consciousness, too much to form any kind of thought.

“here, try this.” you hear from the side- no, in front of you. denki’s leaned over with a diamond shaped candy on his palm.

you hesitate, but not able to talk, body already working overtime to remember how to breathe properly.

“it’ll just make you feel good, i just took one too.” he reassures, gesturing again for you to grab it. if you could feel your body right now, you’d feel every single inch of it aching to run. you’d feel that same feeling in your stomach as it started to churn. maybe you would’ve listened this time. but instead all you can feel is the race in your chest as you eye the light blue against his pale skin.

“c’mon.” kirishima’s showing off his sharp teeth with how wide he’s grinning, trying his hardest to be just as reassuring as he was to get you to drink with him a while ago. “we’re your brother's best friends, you know we wouldn’t let anything happen to you.. even if he is busy.

you take another deep breath, nodding. right. katsuki wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“let me.” denki’s suddenly standing over you, candy- pill pinched between his fingers, a grin just as big plastered on his face. “open up.”

you miss the devilish intent hiding behind those smiling faces. you miss the almost telepathic conversation they all have in the glances they share as you flutter your pretty eyes closed, letting your tongue fall out for denki to drop the pill on. it hits your taste, dissolving almost immediately. you swallow the bitter grainy bits, grimacing as you only have your spit to get it down with.

“give it just a few minutes.” the blonde speaks again, much more eagerly this time. which should alert you, all of this should.

you could blame it on the alcohol you have a low tolerance for, on the weed you’ve never smoked, on the fact you trust anyone who attaches their name to your brothers. but really, it’s because you’re dumb. you don’t think anything bad can ever happen to you. not like this. not when your brother is so close.

“it’s kinda warm out here.” you mumble, shifting uncomfortably on the padding. you feel the heat across your cheeks and down your neck, skipping to your stomach that warms slowly, trickling down between your legs and across your thighs. “think i want some water.”

you slowly push yourself to stand, body feeling heavy as you move. you don’t catch how they all follow right behind you, until sero—no, denki’s arm slinks its way around your waist as you walk. he pulls you away from the path back to the glass door and towards the gate in the big wooden fence.

“it’s too hot in there.” he tugs you again when you weakly attempt to pull away. “kirishima’s place isn’t too far from here. we can just hang out there while you cool off.”

you shake your head, mind racing to how badly you just want something to drink, and to be with katsuki. mentally cursing out the stupid girl in that picture for taking your brother away from you, for stealing his attention when you’re the one who needs it. and you curse yourself, for not listening to his warning when he said denki would be here.

“denki.” you drag your feet, doing anything to attempt a fight against the push of his much stronger hands. “what was that? the…” it’s hard to think, even harder to push those thoughts into words and say them aloud “the pill. what’d you give me?”

“i told you,” he smirks, glancing behind you and nodding one of the men over. “it’s just to make everything feel better.” stepping aside, kirishima’s heavy arm replaces denki’s, locking you under it and forcing you forward. your heart races at all the implications that could have. you don’t even notice you’re shaking until he wraps his other arm around you, bending his head down to graze the shell of your ear, whispering into it

“it’ll make things easier,” something about his tone makes you want to vomit. “just don’t think about it, pretty.”

“don’t get too friendly, dude, i’m the one who set this up.” denki bites, pulling his keys out as the four of you near a car. “there’s no way you get first.”

sero snickers again, sighing as kiri opens his mouth to snide back about how he’s been waiting two years and that you should at least get to pick that much. you can’t really make it out anymore, all you can hear is your own heartbeat banging in your ears.

you try and struggle out of his hold, which only makes them all laugh in turn and your heart falls into your stomach. you’re with pro heroes, if anything bad is going to happen to you here, at their hands, there's no way you’re going to fight your way out of it.

sero’s fingers wrap around the handle of the car’s back door when the voice booms out your name down the small hill the house is sitting on.

you can physically feel kirishima tense up and his heart start to race, you can hear the way sero and denki stop breathing in unison. you can even picture the way they all freeze without having to look, you can imagine the absolute fear in their face as they stand there, gaping at your brother.

his red eyes dig into you before taking a second to glance at the men around you.

“why do you look so fucked up?” he barks out, brows furrowing deeper with each step he takes towards you. “where the fuck were you guys about to go?”

he’s eyeing kirishima now, tugging you by your wrist out of the red head’s hold and into his own, gripping you as if he lets go, you'll get stolen away.

“she said it was hot in there.” kirishima shrugs awkwardly, face stiff.

“and who the fuck said you could take her anywhere?” bakugou tilts his head face twisted dumbfoundedly at the boldness his old friend suddenly seems to have.

“my place is just up the street she wanted to—“

“and why the fuck do you have her around denki?” you can feel bakugou’s skin grow hotter to the touch with each word he spits. or maybe it's you that’s getting hotter. god, it’s fucking hot.

“i didn’t drive.” he shrugs again, breaking eye contact to look over at the other blonde.

“she’s not a baby bakugou, she can be around whoever she wants.” kaminiari says smugly, like the idiot he is.

“i’ll kill you.” your brother doesn’t hesitate with this threat, and it wipes the smile off denki’s, raising his hands slightly in defence.

you use the hold he has on you to wrap your arm around his, feeling a great sense of relief pressed against him.

“he didn’t touch you did he?” katsuki’s voice is still gruff when he talks down to you, but you don’t mind it.

you know that he did technically touch you, but not enough to hurt anything. and if you answer truthfully it’ll just drag this out even longer, and all you want is to be wrapped around him. so, you shake your head, and you hope he doesn’t hear the way they all sigh in relief.

your brother doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you away towards where he’d parked. the second he turns around, you peek back at the men. kirishima has his head tossed back, hand over his chest as he takes in a deep breath, sero, leaned against the car shoulders shaking with laughter while denki curses and slams the driver side door shut.

“i’m hot katsu’” you whine when he unlocks the door for you.

“how much did he let you drink?” he scoffs, leaning across you and buckling your seatbelt for you as if you’re unable.

you huff, watching his strong arms reach over your body. his warm chest coming down to press into yours, that you find is so sensitive. so much so that a small whine escapes your throat before you’re able to register it he’s already pulled back looking down at you. one hand on the top of the car as he leans over, eyebrows pinched together.

“‘m just hot, bubba.” you assure, face burning in embarrassment and whatever else was setting your body on fire.

he immediately blasts the AC as soon as the car is on, and in the second that it satiates the burning under your skin, you remember.

“who was the girl?” you question, voice somewhere between shaking and slurring. you shouldn’t be asking, there’s no reason for you to do this right now—or at all. “the one you left me to go see.”

katsuki just stares ahead for a second before his jaw tightens.

“and where did you see me with a girl?” he asks blankly, like he already knows the answer.

“sero had a picture. they said you were busy, that’s why i stayed with them.” you answer truthfully, hoping he’d driven far enough to not want to turn back.

“i didn’t know her, sero at introduced us.” he scoffs, scowl resting on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the drive.

the heat begins to dig into you again, the cool blow the ac’s aid only a temporary fix.

“why? why didn’t you come look for me? text me?” he asks, his short fuse burning already.

“you were busy.” you reply shortly, too focused on the ache going on in your lower half.

“and? if i knew that shit face was going to try fucking with you we would’ve left as soon as we got there.” he shakes his head, voice raising only slightly.

“you were with a girl, katsu! i didn’t want to interrupt.” you throw your head back against the cool leather, smoothing your hands out over your skirt, across the tops of your thighs as if that would help.

“you’re my little sister, that’s completely different.” he scrunches his face up as he glances between you and the road, the same thing he does anytime anyone says something he thinks is the slightest bit dumb.

“is it?” you ask.

“yes.” he snaps back.

“so if i wasn’t your little sister, you wouldn’t care?” you mumble, shifting at the warmth you feel start to spill into your panties. “or if i wouldn’t have come with you tonight, would you have left with her?”

he sighs, exasperated.

“what the fuck are you saying right now?” he keeps glancing at you, rushing a reply.

“why did you leave me to go see her?” you groan. “why didn’t you stay with me? why didn’t you wanna just be at home with me?”

he only gets your name and a curse out before you cut him off, the heat itching at you becoming too much.

“katsu’ ‘m so hot.” you mewl, raking your hands down your body, reveling in the momentary coolness under your own touch. you can feel the way he stiffens slightly next to you, but the previous tension is out the window, almost forgotten.

“i have the ac on.” he states, keeping his eyes on the road as you near the building the two of you call home.

“it’s inside katsu, ‘m hot on the inside.”

he stops the car with a jerk in the middle of the parking lot, snapping his head over towards you.

“what did they give you?” his question is sharp, voice filled with anger once again.

“denki gave me candy—no, a pill.” you toss your head side to side, thighs rubbing together mindlessly. “to make me ‘feel good’—make everything, no—something feel good that’s what they said, but i just hurt.”

you can hear death threats spill out his mouth as he watches you squirm in the seat.

“i’ll take you to the hospital.” he mutters, putting a hand on the shoulder of your seat to look behind him as starts to back out.

“no!” you whine, grabbing his hand and pulling it to your lap. “i don’t want doctors touching me.”

he keeps his eyes on you as you put his palm against your inner thigh, watching how you keen against the seat when his skin touches yours.

“want you to help me, bubba, please.” he pulls his hand from you, face contorted with.. something before he’s rubbing his palms over his face and pulling at his hair. you realize what you just asked and for the umpteenth time tonight, your heart sinks. but this time you're sure that if you stood, it’d be sitting on the seat underneath you.

“i’m—katsuki, i’m sorry.” you start to babble out apology after apology, which soon all runs together and becomes broken as you tear up, voice cracking every other word.

the blond throws his head back, hard. quickly changing gear and moving his car into a private parking spot. you’re still crying when he pulls your wrist, strength easily shifting you over the middle console of his car and into his lap.

“tell me that you need my help.” he blinks up at you, holding your waist just above his lap.

you nod, hoping it’ll suffice, but it doesn’t.

“i need you to help me, katsu—no one else can.” he drops you onto his lap, fingertips digging into the softness of your sides. “please, make it better.” you breathe, shakily.

he uses his hold to drag you across his lap, the friction making you drop your head onto his shoulder. pleasure shooting up your spine, small whines of his name getting lost in his neck as he keeps grinding you down onto him until your thighs start to shake, your moans turn into breathless whines and you’re crumbling against him as you make a mess all over his jeans…

the two of you sit in panting silence for a few minutes before he tells you to move, that you need a shower. and like you always do, you listen. following him inside and discarding your clothes from your still buzzing body in silence. but as soon as the showers water hits you, you’re burning again. the ache between your legs coming back stronger than before, the burn in your stomach twice as hot and the need is too much.

you don’t hesitate to make your way right back to his room, body still nude and dripping all over the floors as you do. but you don’t care—your brain and body only knows one thing right now and it’s that you need your brother.

“what are you doing?” he strains, turning his head back towards the drawer he was sorting through as soon as he takes in your naked body standing at his doorway.

“i still hurt, katsu.” you whisper, not caring if he heard you or not. just wanting him to give you more than what he gave earlier.

“i already helped.” you can hear pain in his voice and it makes you want to cry. you wish you didn’t put him in such a position, that you would’ve just been grateful and stayed home—but you need him, it’s all your mind and body can tell you, you need him.

“help again.” you practically demand, craving him too badly to be embarrassed or think much at all about what you were doing. your hands land on his shoulders and pull yourself up to kiss at his neck trying to entice him.

“i can’t.” he groans low, but doesn’t attempt to push you away, letting you drag your lips across all the skin you can reach.

you don’t say anything else, not until you manage to pull him down by his hair to look at you.

“make it better.. like you always do.”

it’s the pebble that cracks the glass, his hands grip your waist and all but throw you onto his mattress. you only have a moment to gasp before he’s hovering over you.

“say it again.” he commands, voice rough as one of his hands makes its way to the apex of your thighs. your eyes flutter at the vibration of his words against your chest, the knot in your stomach already tying itself.

“make me feel better, bubba, please.”

there was a reason behind why he’s left the condo the few times that he does get to sit in the house, a reason why he doesn’t want to be alone with you for too long. it’s not that he doesn’t have any restraint, but he’s known thatif something ever happened, where the little sister that has always been the exception his selfish attitude asked him to do anything like this—even without whatever the fuck it was that denki gave you—he’d do it.

he drags a heavy finger along your slit, up to your still swollen clit making you gasp against his lips as they ghost your own. he teases only for a second, not able to bare you being in pain when he’s there to do something about it, just like he’s always been. he uses your excessive slick to rub harsh circles over your clit, it sends your eyes rolling back, it’s so much more practiced than the pathetic frottage he pulled in the car.

“need more, katsu, please.” you push your hips into his hand with the little bit of strength you have, desperate for as much as he’ll give you.

he drops his forehead to your shoulder this time, looking down as he moves his fingertips to your entrance, pushing two in without warning. he immediately works away with them, curling into your swollen, most sensitive wall and fucking into you with a strength that could only be possessed by such a high ranking pro hero. your wetness sticks to his knuckles with every pull before it squelches obscenely loud when he pushes back in.

“kiss me, katsu.” you whine.

he brings his lips back to yours, red eyes flickering between both of your eyes for a moment, waiting for you to take it back. you don’t, instead, sliding your hands from where they sat on his shoulders up to twist into his hair.

“you can pretend ‘m someone else… just please kiss me.” his fingers pause their movement for a moment, and he pulls away. you start to whine, from the loss and out of fear you’d said something wrong again.

“why would you say that?” you trip over any word that hits your tongue. but you don’t need to speak, he does it for you. “i don’t need to do that,” his fingers pick their pace back up, drawing wonton moans from you that you wouldn’t be able to bite back if you tried. “not when i’ve always pretended everyone else was you.” he admits.

your heart leaps in your chest just as he presses his mouth into yours, the kiss is littered with teeth and spit—but neither of you can find a reason to care.

the familiar feeling starts to coil in your stomach, your hips moving on their own down on his hand to chase the feeling of ecstasy but it never comes, you cry out as the pressure fades.

“more.” you cry softly against his lips, keeping your eyes screwed shut so you don’t have to face any look that he might give you. “‘need you.”

but, he complies, tugging himself out of the sweats he’d thrown on after his shower and kicking them off to be dealt with later. he doesn’t waste any time teasing, rushing to give you what you want—what you need, to make his pretty little sister feel good the way he’s been cursing his brain for imaging for the longest time.

he lines the thick head of him up with your already stretched hole, dropping back down to your lips as he eases in. the pop of the head of him pulls a gasp from the both of you, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust to it, knowing with how you’ve been aching to be filled all night that you can handle the stretch. which is exactly what he gives you, his fingers were nothing in comparison to the girth of his cock.

it stings, making your eyes tear up, and drags whine after whine from your throat. katsuki catches them in his mouth, swallowing them and shushing you while he continues to push in until he’s at the hilt. you babble out senseless ‘thank you’s while he pulls back slightly, never separating your hips and his own by too much. his hips make a circular motion, grinding back into you slowly, pushing the trimmed light colored pubes at the base of him against your ever throbbing clit and making you squeal from the pleasure of it.

he repeats it over and over, curved length of him dragging along your g-spot until youre twitching, your mouth hangs open, sounds falling against his lips as he drinks all of them in. your hips rise every few strokes trying to meet him, to egg him on to go harder, to give you more without having to ask for it, but he just wont. keeping his slow, sensual pace, as if he was fucking you at his own leisure and not because you basically forced yourself onto him

“love you, bubba.” you whisper drunkenly, lips dragging across his soft ones as you speak.

his hips stutter at your words, strong arms move from holding himself over you to grabbing the underside of your knees and pulling them slightly, wrapping your legs around him. “ah- my katsu.”

“keep telling me.” he grunts, sliding his hand down to your waist where your thighs fold over them. “tell me i’m yours, say that you’re mine.”

he finally picks up his antagonizing pace, hips still swirling into yours, pubic hair scratching against your bud with each push. the head of him presses deep against that spongey spot with each sway, heavy balls sticking to your leaked juices as you chant out the i love you’s like a mantra, like it’s the only meaningful thing that you’ve ever said. it’s not long before your legs start to shake, his cock hitting all of the right nerves in your throbbing cunt.

“don’t stop.” he repeats when your mouth drops wide open, orgasm creeping up on you.

“mine! you’re mine!” you cry as your vision turns white and your walls spasm around him. “‘m yours, all yours, bubba.” you whimper as the ache in your cunt becomes the pain of overstimulation.

your words and the steady throb of your clamping cunt ultimately bringing him to his end with you. you feel the heat simmer down as he fills you, warmth spilling out even as his cock still plugs you. and you couldn’t be more thankful for denki being such a scumbag.

you don’t have enough strength to stay awake past that, all of your energy left with the last orgasm. at some point you wake up, you’re clean between your thighs and cuddled up on your brother's warm chest. you shift only an inch and you could feel him jump awake to pull you closer, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before you drift back to sleep with small smiles on both of your faces—happy to be your brother’s girl.

a / n : obligatory bkgs little sis tag : @vampireloverz <33 thank you stevie for inspiring me to write this in first place!!!! +++ happy birthday to The Guy !!!

reblogs + feedback appreciated !

#bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #my hero smut #mha smut #bnha smut #boku no hero smut #my hero academia smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #my hero x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero x reader #lets how long i keep this up #this is so good fr tho you should read it and praise me

1K notes · View notes

arcanecor3 · 18 days ago

Text

Sister parallels.

Okay so, this is me trying my best to explain my view of the parallel between these 2 scenes

Firstly, a little thing to keep in mind is that in this parallel, s2 Cait represents s1 Vi and s2 Vi represents Powder

A big fight just happened, s1’s was the Vander rescue mission and s2’s was find Jinx, and both ended up going wrong because of someone who was supposed to help (Powder; s2Vi). After everything goes down at the s1 warehouse, we see Vi screaming and she is angry (i’ll come back to that later), and then Powder shows up with the “my monkey bomb finally worked” line we all know, and on s2 we have Caitlyn being the angry one because Vi didn’t let her shoot.

a little parallel with the lines:

“you did this?”-s1vi to powder

“you stopped me”-s2cait to vi

“i was saving you”-powder to s1vi

“that was a kid! what if you missed?”- s2vi to cait

Now, both s1 Vi and s2 Cait are blinded by anger and grief, so even tho the other person (Powder; s2vi) is explaining themselves (in Powder’s case it wasn’t the greatest explanation, but she does states that it was an accident, and s2 Vi was being rational), they don’t really listen because of all the anger.

then, Vi slaps powder, making her fall, and that’s when Powder desperately asks: “why did you leave me?” to which Vi answers: “because you’re a jinx! do you hear me? mylo was right". Now on s2, basically the same thing happens, just in a different order: s2 Cait says: “I keep telling myself that you’re different. but you’re not. it’s her (Jinx’s) blood that runs in your veins”, then Vi asks her: “then why are you the one acting like her?” and Caitlyn hits vi, knocking her to the ground. AND IN S2 WE EVEN GET A SHOT OF ANGRY CAITLYN LOOKING AT VI CRYING, JUST LIKE S1 VI LOOKED ANGRY AT POWDER CRYING. LIKE HOW SICK AND TWISTED IS THAT.

Then both s1 Vi and s2 Cait walk away, leaving the other one crying alone on the floor.

The thing is that crying is the exactly what we expect from Powder, since that’s how she was during the entire scene, because that’s how her character is. but not Vi. Because during the entire of the s2 scene vi wasn’t actually crying, in fact, Vi barely cries in the whole show, the only time we see her actually sobbing is during the bridge scene from s1e1, when she saw her dead parents. And since then, she has trained and fought to become a person who can protect those she loves. And even when everything goes down at the s1 warehouse, we only get to see her a glimpse of her crying before she tried to go back to powder, but she’s mainly angry, that’s the way Vi usually reacts to these situations. She gets angry. And she tries to do everything in her power to go after who hurt her/the people she loves.

But this s2 scene is different. She simply has nowhere to go. Once again, she lost everything. Her family? dead. you might argue there’s Jinx but as Vi herself said: “my sister is gone”. the last person she had was Caitlyn, and she left, and Vi now feels like she ruined everything again, because that’s how she is, she burdens herself with the guilt and blames herself. So when you see Vi just, on her knees, crying, it’s just so devastating when you think that she is like that because her life is essentially over. All there’s left to her is cry. Just like Powder in the end of s1e3, s2e3 Vi lost everyone.

But that’s when the parallel ends, because it’s when Powder was in that desperate state that silco came, and even though his character divides opinions, you can’t deny that he took care of and loved Powder (who became Jinx).

Vi doesn’t have anyone to come and save her, to wipe away her tears like she had done so many times before for Caitlyn and before that for Powder. She is alone.

thank you to whoever read this entire thing for contributing to my arcane obsession, and shoutout to my amazing friend who helped me put this together @crzytoogetherr 🥰🥰

#arcane #parallels #jinx arcane #vi arcane #caitvi #violyn #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #jinx league of legends #league of legends #vi league of legends #oh my god i’m crying #who’s idea was to do this.#MY POOR BABY VI ☹️☹️#arcane s2 #arcane season 2 #arcane league of legends

87 notes · View notes

ifancyharry · 2 years ago

Text

Bad habit (2)

In which YN is Harry’s daughter’s teacher, and she and Harry used to be friends in college; smut; daddy!kink; fluff; angst; dad!harry (read part 1 here)

Word count: 18K+

“Find a place for us to sit, pet, I’ll go order”.

When Harry had told her he wanted to catch up, YN certainly didn’t think he was serious. She doesn’t know why any time it comes to Harry, she thinks he’s joking or making fun of her, how pathetic could she be that even the thought of him wanting to grab a coffee with her makes her think he’s taking the piss out of her?

She doesn’t know why, but she does, and when he had texted her if she was fine to meet him in the late afternoon for a coffee, she had to read the message three times to fully grasp its content.

She couldn’t believe her eyes, and she still can’t fully grasp the extent of it, when Harry is walking back to the table she’d chosen holding a tray with two coffees in his hands and a small ceramic white plate with a slice of banana bread with two small forks on it.

Oh god. He looks good. He’s so pretty it’s unfair, and YN thinks it’s nice seeing him outside of the school environment. He’s much more relaxed, and she notices he carries himself around with a sort of gleam to him, and many heads turn to look at him when he walks, but, then again, it has always been like this when it came to him.

As he’s walking back with their orders, she can fully grasp how he’s dressed: a pair of distressed jeans hug his legs, tucked away in a pair of black Uggs that YN finds adorable (even more so when she remembers Aidi owns a pair exactly like him’s), and a black hoodie on top, his pink fluorescent beanie tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans. When he catches her looking, she averts her gaze quickly, but she doesn’t miss the smile he throws in her direction.

She tries not to blush too much when he sits in front of her and pushes her coffee towards her direction. He then takes the ceramic plate off the tray and positions it in the center of the table.

She takes a sip of her coffee and her eyes close as she tastes the sweet hot drink, “still ‘member your coffee order”, he chuckles, smirking with his lips around his own mug of coffee.

YN takes a big gulp before setting her mug down, her cold fingers wrapping around it to keep some of the warmth with her. She doesn’t know how he could be so carefree in the way he delivers these types of informations.

To YN, remembering how someone takes their coffee after probably what could be more than five years, is a big deal. Like big. Because she remembers only a few of her friend’s coffee orders. And among these, there’s Harry’s. But that isn’t special on her part, because she used to have a crush on him and she’d always be extra mindful of every little thing he did, and she knows for a fact that wasn’t Harry’s case when it came to her, so, once again, it doesn’t have to mean anything.

It doesn’t, right? She needs to convince herself many times of this before she goes down a rabbit hole too intricate for her sanity.

“So…” she trails off, uncertain on how to make small talk, “’s been a long time, huh?”

Fuck, when she thought she couldn’t get any more awkward than she already was, she delivers the exact same line he had told her days ago at the school.

“Yeah” he giggles, and if he noticed that she repeated his own words he doesn’t let her know, “you’re a teacher now.”

Her brows furrow in the center and she throws him a puzzled look, “I am. Don’t try to act too disappointed. You say it like there’s something wrong with it.”

“No, no, ’s not that” he’s quick to say, waving a hand in front of him, “of course there’s nothing wrong with being a teacher, bug, I just… I remember your stories.”

It’s weird to her, how he would go there not even ten minutes into their coffee date, and she wonders what his point is. The chosen pet name doesn’t go unnoticed, and she feels the sound of her heart beating in her ears, but she knows it doesn’t have to mean anything. Probably too much baby talk with his three years old.

“Wha’ you used t’write in class. — he clarifies — you were good. Like… we’re talkin’ Stephen King good. I can’t believe yeh’re not writin’ anymore”

“Who told you I’m not writing anymore?” She teases.

He shrugs, “Figured you aren’t…”

“I’m not” she admits sadly, shaking her head. “But I wasn’t that good. I was… okay”

“You were, though. You really were… gotta give yeh self more credit”

She looks down and plucks a piece of banana bread with her fork, bringing the small bite to her mouth and closing her lips around it.

She doesn’t miss how his eyes fall to her mouth, and she suddenly feels too hot.

She clears her throat and he averts his gaze quickly, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a small sip of his coffee.

“Let’s talk about you, then” she points her index finger in his direction and grins jokingly, “do you even work? Or are you a stay at home dad?”

She feels a little silly now, and she wonders if he understood the true meaning behind her question. Of Course she wanted to know what he was doing with his life, but she really, really, really wanted to know if he was married, too. Can you blame her?

He blows a laugh through his nose and, “Bloody hell, I wish! Stay at home dad — he repeats in a mocking manner —, no… I write stuff”

YN furrows her eyebrows as she chews around a rather dry piece of banana bread “stuff? What do you mean?”

“Whatcha think I mean? Books, ‘f course! Silly thing yeh are” he laughs and YN really wishes the ground would open and swallow her in one big bite.

“Well” she trails off, “I recall you mustn’t be very good. Never seen your name in a book shop” she raises her brows in a challenging manner and her lips open in a grin across her face.

She likes teasing Harry because he gets all flustered and antsy, and for a moment it makes her feel in control. For a brief moment, though, because he’s quick to respond with a wit remark.

“‘Nough o’that! Yeh haven’t seen my name ‘cos I write under a different one…”

“I don’t believe you” she says, shaking her head.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and smiles a sly smile at her, “have you ever read ‘The Argonauts’?”

“‘f course I have” she scoffs, “it’s like the most popular book of the last… shut up! Shut up! No, no way!”

“Don’ act so surprised, pet! Yeh’re gonna shatter my ego” he says, showing one of his dimples in a sideway smile. YN has to refrain herself from poking her index finger into it.

“Uhm, sorry… it’s just… wasn’t expecting it”

Harry watches as she lowers her head and brings the mug of coffee to her lips, taking a small sip. Her cheeks are pink and Harry wonders if it’s from the warmth of the drink or because of him, he likes to think it’s the latter, but he knows it’s probably not. YN has always been one hard to read, and as the time passes, he observes that hasn’t changed. She’s slightly more open now, at least she engages in a conversation, whereas before, she always seemed too busy to talk to him.

“You could do it too if only you wanted” he shrugs.

He’s aware the atmosphere between them suddenly changes, but he doesn’t regret his words. He remembers how passionate she was about writing, and he remembers how good she was too, much better than him, and it pains him to think she’s spent years not knowing it.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She snaps, “you don’t know me like that anymore”

“Think I never did, bug” he says, and YN doesn’t miss the embittered grimace that spreads across his features.

“Aidi is a cute kid” YN says after a while, tracing the handle of her mug with her fingertip. She notices he hasn’t eaten the cake, and she pushes the plate closer to him.

“She is” he smiles happily, picking up the other fork and dipping in the banana bread, “love her so much. Dunno what I’d do without her”

YN reciprocates his smile, “she’s very polite. You and her mum did a good job”.

She bites her bottom lip and she feels mortified. What possessed her to say that, she doesn’t know, and if Harry wasn’t aware of her crush up to that point, he must have definitely understood now that she manipulated the entire conversation on finding out if he has a partner.

Harry looks in her eyes with a glint in them, and he smiles amused, “are yeh askin’ me if I’m single?”

“What! No! You obviously aren’t, I’m not…”

He interrupts her with a loud laugh and “i’m just teasin’, love. Her mum isn’t in the picture. She bailed when Aidi wasn’t even one. Claimed it was too much, she was too much.”

“Oh, Harry. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything” she smiles sadly, and she stretches a hand across the table to meet his, which she squeezes lightly.

“’s okay. I don’ blame her. A child ’s a big responsibility” he shrugs, and when YN goes to remove her hand, he only squeezes it tighter, “but she definitely didn’t raise her”

YN nods and throws him a brief smile, the skin of her hand burning under his touch. Harry doesn’t remove his hand until the very last moment they have to leave, and she feels both hot and cold in his presence.

She had forgotten what it was like, being in his presence, and if her feelings were under control before, she feels them inside her like a raging river now, pushing to be let out.

It’s weird, to her, because it’s both premature and both too late, now, and despite the shift in their dynamic, and despite feeling like the universe might have given her a second chance, she isn’t brave enough. She’d never speak first. It’s a tale as old as times, and it’s been like that since she was little, and perhaps that’s why her relationships with the other sex stayed circumscribed to awkward hookups with strangers she’d met at bars, sometimes even single parents, but that was very, very awkward after (and it happened only one time, so it doesn’t even count!)

“‘m really happy we did this” he smiles. They’re both walking out of the coffee shop now, and he holds the door open for her, and YN really tries not to stumble on her feet. Now, that would be very awkward.

Maybe, it’s a cruel joke of the universe, or she’s just as clumsy as a little kid, because as soon as she steps outside, she turns around to wait for him, and in doing that, her shoe stamps on the untied lace of the other shoe, and she feels her feet tangled together when she turns.

She prepares herself from the embarrassing imminent fall, but instead she is met with a pair of big arms circling around her waist and holding her in place.

Her nose is pressed against Harry’s chest and she tries to be very subtle in the way she takes a small sniff of his scent, smelling perhaps his fabric softener mixed with a woodsy, tobacco scent, that she figures could be his cologne.

“Woah, easy there, bug” firm, strong, hands take a hold of her bicep and she regains the balance on her feet, her eyes still avoiding his.

“Strong reflexes you have there” she mumbles, and she feels so embarrassed she might throw up all over her sweater.

“Comes in handy with a three year old” he chuckles, his fingers still gripping the fabric of her sweater.

“There’s the little bugger” he says, and before YN can say anything, he crunches down on the ground and starts untying her shoe laces.

He ties them back in their place, and YN smiles despite the embarrassment when she notices he still uses the method of the two bunny ears, and she remembers Aidi telling her that her daddy is teaching her how to tie her own shoes (“because I’m a big girl now, Miss YN”).

“There ya go” he pats behind her knee and smiles slyly at her when he’s back at eye level.

“Thank you” she blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You know…” he trails off, and YN finds herself leaning closer, almost too scared that someone else would hear him and that his words weren’t only for her to hear, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

Her mouth twitches and she tries not to feel too disappointed, feeling at a loss for words.

She bites down on her bottom lip and she crosses her hands against her chest to shield herself from the sudden wave of cold that possessed her. She doesn’t know what to say so she chooses to not say anything, she just watches as he takes his car keys out of his pocket.

She has to bite down her tongue to refrain herself from asking about the bunny. Because there definitely is a keychain in the shape of a very cute cream colored bunny hanging from his keys, and she isn’t delusional now. She’s sure it’s a bunny.

She smiles at him when he catches her staring at his fingers wrapped against the keys, and he reciprocates the smile. Unspoken words linger between them, a question about a bunny and an honest conversation about feelings, and it goes way back, to a conversation they both aren’t ready to have.

“See yeh tomorrow?” He asks, to which YN nods, “yes.”

They part after a brief hug and a promise of doing this date thing again, and YN tries not to smile too much on the tube on her way home to not scare the other passengers.

And to think he said he didn’t know her. YN thinks he may know her better than anyone else.

…

It’s a little later in the month now, and despite the chilly weather, YN can’t wait to get to school.

Every year, the teachers organize a small, mid day, trip to the zoo, something easy but that the kids love very much, and parents are welcomed to come too, if they don’t feel safe enough to leave their kids with just the teachers. YN is ecstatic when she walks inside the classroom and a bunch of kids are already inside with Miss Enya, loud chatter fills the room, and she can feel the excitement lingering in the air.

It’s endearing, really, how something as simple as a trip to the zoo could make a kid so happy and giddy, and she just loves the atmosphere in general. She also really loves animals, and this zoo is more of a farm, really, so she knows the animals are being taken care of rather well.

Harry walks in at around 8, Aidi perched up on his lap, swinging her little legs happily.

She smiles at him a warm smile, and once he settles the little girl down, he makes his way quickly towards her.

“Don’ think we’ve ever been this early” he laughs, knuckling at his eyes tiredly. He looks extremely soft, and YN takes in his appearance. He’s wearing a pair of running shorts, with a black sweatshirt on top, the lace tied at the neck, his feet tucked in a pair of white vans with white socks ending at his low calves. YN thinks she’s never seen him dressed as casual as he is now. His hair looks soft and disheveled, as if he��d just washed it a couple of hours before, and YN has to refrain her hand from brushing away a stray curl that’s fallen on his forehead.

“They love the zoo” she simply says, shrugging.

He nods as he looks around and YN wonders if he, too, can feel the excitement that’s lingering in the air, “do yeh need help with somethin’?”

“Can you help me pack the snacks? I’m a little behind” she gestures towards the apples and chocolate bars she had bought earlier in the morning.

“‘f course” he smiles, rising the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows and positioning himself next to her. He picks a small, clear, plastic bag and takes first an apple and then the milk chocolate bar, putting them both in the small bag along with a napkin, before twisting the ends of the bag and tying it in a knot.

“No bunnies today?” He asks after a while, and YN really has to refrain herself from asking him to repeat himself.

She looks at him with her brows furrowed and he points to her top, a black hoodie similar to his in style, “no bunnies” he repeats, as if it was the most normal thing ever.

At this point, YN really can’t understand whether he’s teasing her or flirting with her.

She tsks her tongue against her palate and once she gains his attention, she brings two hands to the neck of her hoodie, tugging it down and revealing the gold necklace tucked away in the warmth of her shirt.

Harry raises one hand and brushes his fingers against her collarbone to pick up the necklace, not daring to go under her hoodie, and when the pendant is out and swaying against her chest, he picks it up in his hand. It’s still warm, and he feels a twitch in his belly at the thought of where it was tucked away between her breasts.

“See, — he smirks, raising his gaze from the bunny to her eyes — I knew it was a necklace”

He throws the pendant another amused glance, and then he picks the fabric of her hoodie between his thumb and index finger at the neck, letting the necklace fall back to its previous hidden place, and then he turns back to packing the snacks, as if what he just did didn’t ruin YN completely. She feels her chest heaving, and she’s suddenly hyper aware of the necklace against her skin, as if it caught fire with his touch, and she feels the bunny fall hidden between her bra, warm from his hands. She’s completely ruined. And she thinks her panties are too.

…

“Daddy! Daddy! Snakes!!! I wanna see the snakes!”

Aidi comes running towards them when they pass the reptile area and she probably sees a drawing of a snake on one of the signs, tugging Harry’s hand to gain his attention.

“Bug, yeh know daddy doesn’t like snakes” he whispers, crunching down to her level, and YN grins teasingly because despite his effort of talking in a small voice, his daughter betrays him saying “daddy yeh don’ have t’be afraid, there’s the glass to protect yeh!”

YN chuckles loudly when she hears that, and Aidi looks up at her teacher with the most father-like grin YN had ever seen, “daddy is scared of snakes”.

“Am not!” He blushes, rising up from his crunched position, “YN, don’t laugh. I am not”

YN only laughs louder, throwing her head backwards and placing one hand against her tummy.

Aidi joins her, giggling loudly at her daddy’s pouting lips.

“I can go with you” YN proposes, looking down at Aidi.

After the first tour of the zoo, the two teachers agreed with the parents to split up, to give every kid the opportunity of seeing what they wanted to see most, according to meet up at 1pm for lunch.

Harry had asked YN if she wanted to tag along with them, and Aidi had jumped in her place when she said yes, so that’s how they got here, in front of the reptile area.

“Yes!” She jumps excitedly, still holding her daddy’s hand, “thank you miss YN”

“Yeh don’t have to thank me, love. C’mon!” She stretches a hand for her to take, which Aidi does duteously, and together they walk inside the reptile house.

Once they’re inside, Aidi asks to be picked up to see the snakes better, and YN watches enamored as the little girl waves at the snakes resting inside the vivarium.

It’s nice to see how gentle Aidi is, because in a way, she’s an extension of Harry, and seeing how good he did with her, warms YN’s insides until she feels her limbs turn to jelly.

And to think he raised her alone! He did such a good job, she doesn’t know how to tell him again without sounding weird. It’s a strange feeling, watching the child of someone you once were in love with. Because at this point there’s no use in denying it. She was in love with Harry, the biggest crush she’d ever had for someone, never developed and never told, which is probably the most pathetic thing YN can think about.

“Were you friends with my daddy?” Aidi asks all of a sudden, still perched against her hip.

“Yes, I still am his friend”

The little kid nods and points to one of the snakes that’s resting on a tree branch, “what’s his name?”

YN couldn’t possibly know his name, so she hums and pouts her lips jokingly, “I don’t think he has a name, bug.”

Aidi frowns at her words and YN is quick to say: “why don’t we name him?”

The toddler opens her mouth in a toothless grin and she sways her little legs in YN’s hold, excitedly.

“I wanna call him Mr Snuggles”

YN tries to suppress her laugh because she doesn’t understand how a snake could be associated with snuggles, of all things, but she knows this is a very serious matter in the perception of a three year old, so she assumes a serious face and gives her a firm nod of the head, “that’s a perfect name for him”

Aidi smiles brightly at that, happy to have the approval of her — favorite, Harry had confessed — teacher.

…

Back on the bus, YN is checking that every kid is strapped in as she walks through the bus’s hallway, smiling at every kid that she sees (most of them sleeping) and when she reaches Harry’s familiar face illuminated by the small light shining on his seat she smiles brightly at him.

When she notices the empty seat next to him she frowns and she goes to ask him where Aidi is, but he’s quick to say: “wanted t’sit in the back, like a big girl, she said”

YN giggles at that and stretches her neck to look at the back of the bus, where she sees a group of toddlers sitting in the last row, she spots a sleeping Aidi between them, with her face propped against the big window.

When the bus takes a big pothole, she has to hold on tight to the seat next to him to prevent her from falling, and when Harry notices that, he tugs on her hoodie with his hand to gesture her to sit next to him.

It’s almost six now, the sun has set and the road is dark, as is the bus, the led blue light of the hallway and every now and then the small one on top of the seats of still awake parents, the only sources of illumination.

She plops down in the seat next to him, crossing her legs in front of her.

He shifts in his seat so that he’s propped with his back against the window and his face is facing her. She does the same, watching him carefully.

He stretches one leg towards her on the ground and he bends the other at the knee against the back of the seat. This way, the skin of his knee brushes against her thigh, covered in a pair of leggings, but she might as well be naked with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s ready to devour her, and she tries to think if he’s ever watched her in that way. She doesn’t know, because she never really paid attention, assuming right away he’d never even spare a glance in her direction.

Was she wrong…

YN closes her eyes and she abandons her head against the headrest, shifting a little on her bum so she could get more comfortable, the long day catching up to her.

After a while, she feels Harry shift in his seat again, but she is too tired to open her eyes and check what he’s doing.

She feels the light finger tip of his fingers brush against her temple, brushing the hair away from her face, then he caresses the skin of her cheek softly, the contrast of his cold rings against her warm skin a solace for her skin, and he is so delicate in his movements YN feels like a rare flower he’s scared of plucking.

When he reaches her lips, she doesn’t know if she’s dreaming, and she feels his thumb brush against her mouth, the skin of his thumb tender and warm. She feels a hand sneak against the side of her neck, cradling her jaw and pushing her delicately against him.

She feels herself fall against his chest, between his legs, and she snuggles unconsciously against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, her fingers reaching up to grab a hold of the fabric.

Her breathing regulates with every stroke of his gentle hand against her hair, and she feels herself fall, deeper and deeper in that rabbit hole she doesn’t see the end of.

…

YN stares at the screen of her phone, double checking the address Harry had written before ringing the door bell.

It’s a warm Sunday of November, and YN is standing outside Harry’s house, a plastic pink bag tucked between her fingers as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

When Harry had told her, at the beginning of the week, that Aidi’s birthday was coming up and she’d begged him to invite her to the small gathering Harry was throwing her, YN certainly didn’t have it in her to decline.

It warmed her heart that Aidi liked her so much that she wanted her at her birthday party. These things are weird, and kids always watch on their teachers with an eye on, wary of the power dynamic. But perhaps that wasn’t Aidi’s case.

YN can already hear the loud screeching voices of small kids playing, and when Harry opens the door, she greets him with a brief hug, which he reciprocates kindly.

Weeks have passed from the zoo trip, and they didn’t speak about what happened on the bus, because truly, what was there to even speak about?

Harry is kind, and gentle, and probably just didn’t want her neck to hurt, his fatherly instincts kicking in providently. It’s as simple as that.

“Hi” he says, “come in”.

YN walks inside, light on her feet as she follows him. He’s wearing a big knitted brown sweater, the neckline and the hem of the sleeves detailed in green, paired with a pair of green tailored pants that hug his thighs just right, and YN can see the muscles of his legs stretch as he walks.

“Aidi’s present” she holds the pink plastic bag between them, and Harry throws her a furrowed look, “yeh didn’t hav’to”

YN swats playfully at his arm and rolls her eyes, “‘f course I had to!”

He grins at her and then eyes her carefully, gesturing towards her coat when he sees she’s about to take it off “yeh can put that in m’room upstairs. Don’ wan’ t’get it mixed up with t’others. ’s t’second door on the left”

YN nods her head and gulps under his gaze, removing her coat and holding it tight against her chest.

Maybe wearing the most revealing dress she owns wasn’t a good idea. She’s still his child’s teacher, for god’s sake!

Well, she can’t really go back now, can she?

The dress isn’t even that revealing, it’s just flattering, with a square neckline that shows a little bit of her chest, long sleeves and that ends just about mid thigh. Opposed to the oversized jeans and big sweaters she wears everyday at school, it’s a big change.

She turns around and walks towards the stairs, following his instructions.

She opens the door of his room and walks in, leaving her coat on his bed, and she tries not to think too much about how she’s leaving her coat on his bed. The room is nice, it reminds her of Harry, colorful and lively. The sheets are white but the bed is a nice cream color, above the headrest there are three abstract paintings that remind her of Jackson Pollock’s. She walks closer to his bed side and she smiles when she sees a framed picture of him and Aidi. He’s smiling brightly as he holds her against his hip, both dressed head to toe in Disney merch, Aidi showing off the most precious little Mickey Mouse ears on top of her head, Harry sporting a matching pair, and she feels herself fluster at the sight.

They are both so precious, she can’t believe Aidi’s mum didn’t want to be a part of their life. Maybe she feels a little jealous, because in her mind, she truly did have it all and threw it away; she’s aware it’s unfair, thinking about others this way, and she’d never even met this lady! What if she was nice?

She doesn’t know, she just knows it wasn’t fair, leaving like that, and she wonders if Harry still feels the pain of it or if it’s an entirely healed wound.

She walks out of his bedroom and shuts the door behind her, looking attentively at the pictures on the walls and paintings he decided to have framed. YN believes you can tell a lot by someone’s house, and the chosen decor that comes with it, and she wonders what could be behind the closed doors she passes on her way from Harry’s bedroom to the staircase.

Perhaps he has a room full of books where he spends his Sunday afternoons, or maybe a playroom for his daughter… one must definitely be a spare bathroom, the other…

“Miss YN?” She hears a small voice coming from behind her, and she turns her body quickly in its direction.

Aidi is looking at her with a puzzled expression, soon to be replaced by an excited one when she starts running towards her, hugging her leg tightly.

“Miss YN!” She exclaims, “why are you here? Daddy didn’t tell me”

YN furrows her brows at her and crunches down on the ground, hugging the little toddler.

She chooses not to linger on her words, she’s little, maybe she forgot she had invited her? Maybe Harry simply didn’t tell her? But YN remembers clearly how Harry had told her Aidi had begged him to invite her. Was he… lying? But why would he?

“I’m here because a little birdie told me it’s a special someone’s birthday?”

“It’s mine! It’s mine!” She giggles, jumping up and down in her place.

YN picks her up and tickles her belly playfully, “mmmh, is it?”

“Yes!” She giggles again, “stop, stop, tickles” the hallway rumbles with the sound of their laughters, and YN wonders if this is what it would be like to have a family of her own… Hallways always filled with laughter and colorful bedrooms and rooms full of books…

“Do yeh want to see my room?” She grins, and YN nods at her.

She looks adorable in her checkered baby blue dress, her hair are tied out of her face with a clipped white bow, and YN feels her chest warm at the thought of Harry doing her hair, because she definitely knows it’s him now.

YN follows the toddler to her room, the door in front of Harry’s, and she opens her mouth in exasperated surprise once she sees it.

The walls are painted a pale pink, small elephants stickers plastered across the walls, and she can see on the ceiling the faint stickers of luminescent glow in the dark lights shaped as stars, a big crescent moon just above her bed.

She imagines what her room must look like at night, when it’s time to go to bed and Harry perhaps reads her a bed time story before tucking her in.

“Woah” she exasperates, “it’s beautiful!”

“I know” she giggles childishly, running to pick up a few of her dolls from the ground and putting them on the bed, “daddy did it”.

“You have a great daddy” YN lets out, and she blushes at her own words. It’s not like Aidi understands to an extent what she really had meant, but still, letting out those feelings makes her feel antsy.

“He is the best” she nods seriously, picking up from the bed another doll.

“Miss YN, do you want to play dollies with me?” She asks politely, showing her the two chosen dolls.

“I think we should go downstairs, bug! It’s your party!”

“Uh! You’re right” she agrees firmly, and YN tries to suppress her laugh at her serious pout.

“We’ll play later, yeah?”

Aidi nods once again and takes YN’s outstretched hand in both hers, and they both walk slowly out of the room.

“You’ll stay for dinner?” She asks, hopeful.

“‘f course I am! ’s your birthday!” To which Aidi giggles loudly.

Laughter filling the hallways once again.

…

“Sorry I left you alone all day, hope yeh weren’t too bored”

It’s a little later in the day now, and YN is sipping on her drink absentmindedly while observing the beauty of Harry’s garden. The grass is well cut, English style, into a kind of hallway that serves as a driveway, and many flowers are planted adorning it.

She’s standing on the patio, where everyone had sang ‘happy birthday’ to Aidi not more than an hour ago.

Some of the guests have already left, leaving only a couple of Aidi’s close girl friends and their respective parents. The sun is still shining, but it has lost its warmth, and the air is turning colder with every minute that passes.

The day had gone by quickly, Harry had rented an inflatable castle that was set up in the small garden that surrounded the house, where the kids had played until exhaustion.

Then, after a brief lunch (cooked diligently by Anne — Harry’s mother, YN had found out), Aidi had opened her presents, sitting on the couch and wearing the most precious tiara YN had ever seen — she made sure to tell her that.

Harry had been kind of busy all day, mostly checking that the kids didn’t hurt themselves while playing in the garden, making sure everyone was well feed and that no one’d leave with an empty belly.

After Aidi had opened her presents, he took care of tidying up the living room, tossing the pieces of wrapping paper she had discarded all over when opening her presents.

YN had stayed behind, talking every now and then with a couple of parents from the school that would come up to greet her, and she didn’t miss how some of them had eyed her suspiciously, and she wonders whether they thought something was going on between Harry and her.

She also didn’t miss how some of the mums would act around Harry, flirting blatantly with him, and she honestly can’t blame them. Harry is attractive, and above everything else he’s polite, kind and intelligent. Not to mention how much he adores his daughter.

it’s endearing how he takes his time to hear every single little thing she says, and he appears to engage in these conversations as well! He’s not only pretending to listen, he truly is interested in the way she sees the world and in the way she tells about it, and to YN, that is one of the most valuable traits of his character.

He’s standing in front of her now, towering above her and eyeing her carefully.

She shakes her head at his previous remark and brings a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, “I had a lot of fun”, she says, squinting one of her eyes.

He moves a little on the right to cover the sun and she lowers her hand thankfully, “i loved the bouncy castle, always wanted one” she chuckles.

“Yeah?” He says, smirking, his dimples appearing proudly on his cheeks, “maybe I’ll rent one for your birthday… if yeh behave, that is”

YN feels herself fluster, and she gulps, his words replaying vividly in her mind.

If you behave.

He must definitely know the effect he has on her, because his eyes gleam, bright, and he looks down at her grinning slyly.

She scoffs when she recovers control of her own mind, “I’m too old for that!”

“I’d rent one for grown ups, silly” he remarks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

YN wasn’t even aware they made bouncy castles for grown ups, and now she kind of wants one for her birthday. She won’t let him know, though.

“By the way…” she trails off, because now she’s the one that wants to tease, “Aidi told me she didn’t know I was coming”

“She did?” And he raises his eyebrows in surprise like he was caught in a lie, only for a brief moment, though, because he’s quick to add, “Told her many times lying ’s bad.”

“I feel like you’re the liar” she mocks, swatting at his arm playfully.

“YN” he says seriously, “are yeh sayin’ you believe a four years old over me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m sayin’” she nods.

He pouts his lips jokingly and YN really, really, has to refrain herself from kissing his pout away.

Her gaze lingers a bit too much on his pouted, strawberry lips and she averts her eyes quickly when his tongue peaks out to wet them.

“You’re silly” he chuckles, and he raises one hand to pinch her tummy through the fabric of her dress. The movement makes goosebumps prickle on her skin and YN crosses her arms against her chest to warm up.

“Are you cold?” He asks quickly, and she doesn’t even have time to say no that he’s already scurrying inside, walking through the glass door.

YN follows him with her gaze, and she watches through the glass as he picks up a throw blanket from the couch, his brows furrowed in concentration and his tongue peaking up from between his lips as he bends down to pick the blanket up.

She turns her head quickly when she sees him make his was back to her, and once he reassumes his previous position in front of her, he opens the blanket to show it to her.

He unfolds it between them and then circles her shoulders with the blanket, wrapping it then across her front and tucking the hem under the other side.

“There yeh go” he smiles snugly.

The blanket is soft and warm, and it hugs her body mellowly, and YN is aware it’s weird, but she suddenly feels protected under the shield of that soft fuzzy blanket, and perhaps not only from the cold…

“Thank you” she whispers softly, snuggling more in the blanket.

He looks at her every movement, his eyes are a deep shade of green, and she wonders if he’s ever looked at her like this before or if it’s the first time. She remembers he used to have these same eyes when he was a little bit drunk and the night was slowly coming to an end, or when he used to read one of her poems for class and he would look at the piece of paper as if he wanted to set it on fire with his gaze.

“Daddy!” They both jump at Aidi’s voice, and Harry turns his head quickly in her direction, welcoming her with a bright smile.

YN lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in and she, too, turns to look at the little girl.

“Is miss YN staying for dinner?” She asks, stretching her arms upwards, demanding to be picked up.

Harry shifts her on one hip and looks towards YN warily, “I don’t know, bug…”

“‘f course I am!” YN is quick to say, raising her hand to tickle at Aidi’s belly lightly, “told you already, haven’t I?”

The little girl smiles happily, snuggling closer to her daddy and YN doesn’t miss the bright smile Harry shows her, which she mirrors instantly.

…

“Do you have anyone you need?” YN coos, referring to the stuffed dollies that Aidi required to be tucked in next to her as well.

“Think so…” she whispers sleepily, crowing her neck to check if she had everyone.

It’s bed time, now, and Aidi had specifically demanded that YN had to be the one to tuck her in, to which YN had agreed without a doubt.

YN is about to get up from the bed when Aidi says “no! Wait! Cinnabun isn’t here”

YN furrows her brows, and throws a pointed look towards Harry, that is still propped against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. He has an alerted look on his face, and YN tries to make eye contact with him, but he averts her gaze quickly.

“Have yeh checked under the bed, pet?” He says, walking inside her room.

He stops in front of the bed, where YN is sat, and he places a ring-clad hand on the bed, right next to her thigh, crunching down on his knees to check under the bed.

“There she is! Little bugger! What were yeh doin’ under the bed?” He addresses the stuffed animal directly, “wanted to avoid bed time, huh?”

He pats away a little bit of dust off, and then places the bunny right next to his daughter, that holds it tight against her chest with the crook of her small arm.

YN is watching his every step as he moves, and she’s very well aware that Cinnabun is, in fact, a stuffed, pale pink bunny, dressed as a ballerina, and that resembles very much one of the bunnies that YN had printed on one of her old shirts she used to wear in college and that she eventually lost in the various times she moved.

When are coincidences no longer considered coincidences?

…

When Aidi has peacefully fallen asleep, Harry shuts the door quietly behind them and he makes his way down the stairs, YN trailing behind him, and she stays light on her feet, almost too scared she’d scare him.

Her mind is thinking a thousand thoughts all at once, and she isn’t really sure what to do. Does she address the bunny? Does she keep quiet? Is she going to pretend nothing happened?

She doesn’t really know how to keep going, actually, and she isn’t sure how she’s supposed to engage in a conversation with him, when her own mind isn’t even connected to her mouth.

“Sorry she made you stay for dinner” he says once they reach the end of the stairs.

She wants to ask him if he’s sorry she stayed for dinner, but how can she?

“What? No! I’m happy I stayed” she shrugs, tucking her hands in the pocket of the hoodie he had lent her before dinner.

“Okay” he nods.

Something’s changed, YN can feel it in the way he’s averting her eyes, and she suddenly feels like she should leave.

“Maybe I should go? It’s getting late…”

“No!” He blurts quickly, “no — he repeats calmly — stay a little longer.” And it really sounds like a plea.

And she doesn’t find it in her to go. It’s as simple as that. Sometimes all it takes is four small words.

So, she nods her head, and she gulps when she sees him visibly relax, some of the tension in his shoulders dissipating, and she wonders what the hell is going on.

Is it because of the bunny? She knows it sounds silly, bunnies aren’t special, most especially stuffed bunnies, and she’s aware they’re very popular with kids, but it’s the same bunny. Thesame. And hadn’t he not mentioned remembering it, she wouldn’t have thought any more than what it was; a simple bunny. But nothing was simple when it came to Harry. And nothing was simple when it came to YN.

“Do yeh want some wine? I think I have some red in the cabinet…” he asks, pushing a stray curl out of his forehead with his fingers.

She hums, “yes. Yes, okay”

He nods and makes his way to the kitchen, and YN debates for a moment if she should follow him.

When he turns his head briefly to check where she is, she realizes he wants her to follow, and she does, catching up quickly with him.

…

A couple of drinks later, the tension has evaporated completely, and both Harry and YN are relaxed in each other’s presence, probably like they haven’t been in a long time.

They’re both sitting outside facing each other, on the wooden chairs in the patio, because Harry had claimed he was getting too hot inside. YN had chuckled loudly and told him it was probably the wine, but, still, he dragged her outside, picking up the throw blanket when walking on the way out.

YN has her legs crossed at the ankle and her feet propped on his upper thigh (she had originally put them on the chair, but he had moved them immediately after, claiming it was more comfortable the other way), and Harry the same, so the blanket could cover the both of them equally.

Harry is stroking the skin of her shin as he talks, because he is a really talkative drunk and a touchy feely drunk probably even more so. YN doesn’t know if he realizes what he’s doing, and most especially, what he’s doing to her, because with every stroke of his fingers against her naked skin, goosebumps pebble in its wake.

She takes a sip of her wine, and she bats her eyelashes tiredly, and she doesn’t know if it’s the wine or his velvety voice, but she feels herself almost drift off to sleep. Almost.

If it wasn’t for one thing Harry says that catches her attention and perks her up against the backseat of her chair.

He was reminiscing on their college years, and he was rumbling, in YN’s opinion, and she was too tipsy and too besotted with the way he was caressing her skin to understand fully what he was saying.

Until he mentioned how he always used to ask her for a spare pen, and YN felt her breath catch in her throat, because there’s no way he remembers that.

“Yeh had so many! One time you gave me a pink one… I think you hand’t realized, and I really didn’t have it in me heart to tell yah, so I had like… five pages of pink notes!” He snorts, “they were so pretty, though” he says dreamily.

“You could have told me!” She chimes in, pinching the skin of his thigh covered under the blanket.

“Pff” he scoffs, “‘f course I couldn’t… I had like, the biggest crush on you. Like… the biggest” he stresses.

YN’s eyes widens when she hears him, and she lowers her glass on the ground, suddenly feeling very sober.

“I was so in love wit’you! M’friends always used t’make fun o’me fo’it.” He continues, and he shakes his head and laughs a soft laugh through his nose, his green eyes twinkling like a lighthouse in the dark night, as if behind his gaze the memory of his college years is running fast as a joke YN didn’t hear quite well enough to participate in.

“What?” YN says, and she tries to hide the surprise in her voice. Her heart is beating fast in her chest and his words are replaying in her head. Isn’t he a little too old to play games?

“Harry… what are you even… what are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me yeh didn’t know?” He raises his brows in surprise, and he balances his empty glass on the armrest of his chair, the clear wine stained glass shining in the night. “You were t’prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, o’course I liked yeh” he chuckles.

She feels her heart skip a beat as her eyes are fixated on an undefined point in front of her; prettiest girl he’s ever seen? That couldn’t possibly be true.

Yn remembers how she was in college: shy, never spoke her mind, every once in a while — when people paid attention — she would crack a joke, that would come out strangled and rushed, and she remembers vividly how often her friends wouldn’t get the joke, and she’d have to explain it, therefore the joke losing all its funniness, and she would try her hardest not to avert her gaze from their eyes, and she remembers clearly in her mind how it felt, what was it like having all those eyes looking at her, especially a pair of green ones that used to always make her nervous — they still do, if she’s honest.

Once again, she tries to think about the past, and if there ever was a time when Harry had looked at her like more of the awkward girl that sat next to him in class, but she can’t find any. And at this point, after months of knowing — reknowing — Harry, shouldn’t she be able to tell when he’s telling the truth? Because he is, he looks like he is. And she wishes he is. But the thought carries with it a bittersweet taste, the awareness of being too late lingering on her head like Damocle’s sword.

“No… no, you were with Natalia, I remember you dating Natalia” YN says nodding her head, trying to somehow convince herself Harry is still going on with this joke she isn’t aware of.

She’s positive she would’ve noticed if Harry liked her.

But… would she, though?

Because she remembers all those nights she spent looking at him, and averting her gaze when he’d catch her, and she vaguely remembers how sometimes she’d feel his lips linger a second too long on her cheek when he’d greet her goodbye.

“No! — he says, furrowing his brows, — that was after. After I realized I had no chances with you. Natalia was kind o’… there. Yeh obviously didn’t like m’back… everyone knew. Y’were always in y’own world… I never really knew how to talk to you…” he says, and YN feels like she might throw up.

She feels hot and cold at the same time, and she wants to rip off the blanket from her legs, but Harry still hasn’t stopped touching her, and she feels lightheaded.

She feels exposed, and she definitely feels stupid, and images of a very college-y Harry run fast before her eyes, as if her brain is presenting the proofs of what he’s saying.

She sees him laugh at her joke (squinted eyes and dimples on display too!) when she thought no one had heard her, she sees him looking directly at her that one time he was playing a Beatles song on the guitar, she sees him brush his knee against her thigh willingly, and asking for her pens, and complimenting her on her writing and on her stories, and she sees him looking with piercing eyes at her lips that one time she had to read her short story out loud.

She sees him now, looking at her with half lidded eyes, his hair clipped back with one of Aidi’s pink, flower shaped clips, and she feels sick. She feels sick and at the same time she wants to kiss him. She wants to lean in and brush her lips on his, taste the wine on his tongue, explore his mouth…

“Don’t worry, — he says after a while, when he realizes YN hasn’t said anything, waving a hand in front of them — I got over it after a while.”

“No… I… I didn’t know. You never — you never said anything, I…” at this point, she’s rumbling, but she really doesn’t know what to say. It’s sad, really, how much time she lost thinking no one liked her. Harry liked her. He liked her! Even if she was shy! Even if she was awkward! She can’t seem to wrap her head around it, somehow the thought of him liking her back, overwhelmed her. How sad could she really be?

“Oh! Don’t go all embarrassed on me now!” He giggles, but they both are aware that there’s no humor in his laugh, “It’s in the past now… told yeh I got over it.” He repeats.

“Yeah, yeah — she laughs nervously, shifting uncomfortably on the chair — I just wish I knew.”

“Yeah… me too. Me too.” He nods, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from going further. He had already ruined the night enough. He didn’t have to confess how he hadn’t gotten over her, not even a bit.

…

Harry looks at his reflection in the mirror and he sighs. He shouldn’t go. He knows he shouldn’t go. He knew it as soon as he read YN’s text, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. After what he told YN, drunk on wine and untold words, he should’ve stayed low. And believe me, he wanted to. He even debated whether he should enroll Aidi in another kindergarten. It was that serious. But then… he saw YN. He saw her in school, wearing a big long sleeve t-shirt with the pink outline of a bunny on it, that almost swallowed her, and she looked fine, she smiled brightly at them once they came in, and he thought maybe she didn’t remember. Maybe she was so drunk she forgot how he told her about how much he loved her back in a time where everything seemed so simple yet it never truly was. That’s why, when he’d gotten the text, he only debated for a brief moment before answering.

“I look hot” he nods, trying to convince himself. He’s always been confident in himself, but… there’s something about getting rejected by the very first girl you liked seriously and having to see her after you professed your love for her.

“What was that, honey?” His mum, Anne, calls out from the bedroom, and Harry cusses under his breath. Great.

“Nothing, mum” he stresses, passing a hand through his hair to adjust them.

“You ready?” Anne asks once he enters the bedroom, and she walks up to him to tug at his tie a bit, straightening it.

“Yes” he nods, thanking her for the tie. “Aidi is okay?” He asks, picking up his phone from the nightstand and removing it from the charging cable.

“Yes, already tucked in bed” Anne smiles, “so… this thing you’re going to…” she trails off, leaving the phrase unfinished.

“It’s for charity, mum. Aidi’s school is hosting it. I think all parents are going…”

“And are you going with someone… someone special, perhaps?” She teases, walking to his closet and putting away the fresh clothes she had just washed for him.

“Mum! No!” He exclaims, whining, “you know I have no time for a relationship.”

“I know, my love, but… it’s been four years now. Don’t you think it’s time to get back out there?”

“I don’t need to, mum. Really. Things are fine as they are” he shrugs. “I have to go now, ’s gettin’ late”

“Okay, just lookin’ out for yeh baby” she says softly, raising one hand to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.

“I know, mum. I’m gonna say bye to Aidi, now, yeah?”

“You do that” she nods, following her son out of the room, “oh and Harry?”

“Yes?” He questions, his brows furrowed as he turns his head to her.

“You look handsome” she giggles before disappearing down the stairs. Harry lets out a groan at his mum’s teasing and makes his way to his daughter’s room.

…

YN takes a sip of her champagne as she scans the room attentively. Many parents have come up to her to greet her hello, everyone but the one she was particularly looking for. It’s well past 10 now, and Harry still hasn’t show up. YN doesn’t even know if he’s coming, really. When she had sent the invitation, she didn’t know what to expect. After that night at his house, YN tried to play it cool, but his words resonated in her head every time she wasn’t busying herself with something.

What was the point behind what he said? What did it mean? After all these years, did it have to mean something? Or was it something he said to be… fun? To reminisce on past times?

She possibly couldn’t know, and she wouldn’t dare ask him, so she just pretended nothing happened between them, greeting him and Aidi with the biggest and brightest smile she could muster.

When she sees him walk in, she feels her breath catch in her throat. He looks… he looks handsome. Dashing. She truly wouldn’t know how better to describe him. His hair are brushed back from his forehead, but a single strand curl is falling in front of his eyes, and he’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath it, a black tie around his neck. She gulps when they lock eyes, all the way across the crowd of people, and he smiles at her, dimples on display, his eyes bright and green.

He’s walking towards her, making his way through the room like he owns it, and once he’s in front of her, he lowers to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi” he says against her ear, “you look… beautiful” he tilts his head backward just enough to take her in, and she truly does look beautiful. She’s wearing a long, black velvet, off the shoulders, long sleeve dress, that hugs her in all the right places and curves.

“Thank you” she blushes, raising one hand to hold against his bicep, “you do too”.

He grins at her and she flushes, looking around the room to avoid his piercing gaze.

“So, what’s this thing fo’ anyway?” He asks.

“Oh… it’s just money the school raises for parents that can’t afford to pay the tuition, it’s a noble cause, really”

“It is indeed, you didn’t mention that in your text” he questions, looking at her with his brows furrowed.

“I knew you’d come anyway.” She shrugs, “you’ve always liked helping others”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he clears his throat, “That’s true, I do.”

She throws him a gleeful smile which he reciprocates immediately, and for a moment, they stay like that, looking in each other’s eyes, and YN doesn’t miss the gleam in his when he locks them with hers.

Harry’s thankful. He thought that after what he’d said, there would be tension between them, and that he’d kind of ruined their new found relationship, and he’s thankful now that he’s learned he hadn’t. It’s true, what his mum said, he’s been alone for four years, never really being alone but always feeling lonely, and it’s nice having someone to talk to, every once in a while.

“Do yeh know where I can get a drink?”

…

It’s a little later in the night now, and YN is feeling tipsy but definitely not drunk. Harry hasn’t left her side once, and they chatted like no time had passed between them, and it’s delightful. Truly. She hasn’t felt like this in a long time.

“I think I need to get some air” she chuckles, “the champagne’s gettin’ to my head”

“Let’s go outside, yeah?” He takes her hand in his and guides her through the room.

As they’re making their way out of the school, YN hears someone call her name from the hallway. She raises her head quickly, a puzzled look on her face that fades as soon as she recognizes the speaker, “oh my god, hi! How are you?” She exclaims, leaning over to greet Michail with a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m fine! I was wondering where you were… kind of was looking for ya actually” he chuckles, raising one hand to scratch the skin behind his neck.

“Oh…” she flushes, giggling embarrassedly. She hears Harry beside her clear his throat, and then two pair of eyes are on her, looking at her curiously.

“Michail, this is Harry. Harry… this is Michail” she introduces them, and Harry stretches one hand between them, that Michail shakes tightly.

“Nice to meet you, are you a teacher too?” He asks Harry.

“What? No… I’m here as a guest” he chuckles, “YN’s guest” he points out.

YN feels herself blush at his words, and she throws Michail a brief smile, “oh, okay” he nods, “so I guess I’m not seeing you later?”

“Yeah, you guessed right” Harry smiles, but YN can hear the tension in his voice.

What is happening? She feels her head spinning and she really needs to sit down. Or get some air. Either one would be fine.

“Okay, it was nice seeing you, YN” Michail says, “you too, Harry” and he leans in to place a kiss against her cheek, waving bye to Harry and walking back in the other direction.

YN watches his back as he walks away, and once he disappears behind the big doors of the gym, she turns her head to look at Harry. But he isn’t standing at her side anymore, he’s walked a bit ahead, a hand tugging at his hair.

“Hey, you okay?” She whispers as she approaches him, and he’s startled by the sound of her voice.

“Yeah, yeah” he nods, reassuring her.

“Okay” she whispers once again, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

“Maybe I need to sit down” he ponders, nodding his head and locking his eyes into hers. His are panicked, searching all across her face, and he finds comfort in her soft gaze, but he doesn’t miss the confused look across her features.

“Wait, let’s go in here, yeah?” She gestures towards one of the classrooms she knows is vacant at this time in the night. After hurrying Harry inside and checking that no one had seen them go in, she closes the door behind them.

Harry sits on the big desk and YN stands in front of him, searching for his gaze with her eyes.

“Harry… are you okay? What happened?” She tries again, stretching her arm to squeeze his bicep to gain his attention.

“Is that… who was that?”

“Who? Michail? He’s… one of the kids’ father” she says, “we used to see each other… a while back” she admits.

“See?” He chimes, his brows raising in question.

“We hooked up one time” she shrugs, crossing her arms on her chest to shield herself from the sudden cold that took upon her body.

“And were you plannin’ on seeing him tonight, too? Because you know, when you sent me that text, I thought I was coming as your guest, YN!” He snaps.

“You are my guest?” She says, but it comes out more like a question, and she doesn’t know why. Confusion is running through her mind and she feels silly standing in front of him like this.

He scoffs at her words, “yeah, I am. Like every one else is, right? Because you didn’t invite me” “Harry, where are yeh gettin’ at? It’s a charity gala thrown by the school! Of course every one was invited” she clarifies, her brows pinched at the front.

He shakes his head, “so I guess I’ve misread the signs”

“What signs?” She questions, and when he doesn’t answer, she repeats herself: “what signs, Harry?”

“I thought you invited me! But I guess you didn’t, because yeh don’t like me like that and yeh never did. It’s fine. I get it. I just thought… when the invite came… fuck… I don’t know what I thought” he rumbles, and YN feels her head pounding. His words don’t seem real, and she feels as if she’s experiencing this conversation from outside of her body.

“I don’t understand” she simply says, because it’s true, she doesn’t, and despite feeling silly, she wants him to clarify. She wants him to be honest and tell it to her face.

“I don’t know how to show it any more than I already am” he shrugs, his eyes avoiding her gaze, looking anywhere but her face. “I really don’t, YN. You have to help me here because I don’t…” he doesn’t finish his phrase on time that YN is already on him, cradling his jaw with one hand and the nape of his neck with the other, and she presses her lips against him, hard, in a kiss that knocks the air out of his lungs.

He gasps against her mouth and she sighs into his, her fingers curling through his hair and tugging a bit. He places one hand on her hip and tugs her closer to him, parting his legs a bit to make room for her.

As he indents his fingers on her skin, the realization of what’s happening finally hits her, and she parts from his lips with her chest heaving between them. Harry follows her lips with his own, and he pecks her mouth briefly once again.

His mouth is greedy, and he kisses her like she could float away any moment, and she relishes in the feeling, and it makes her feel special, like she’s never felt in her whole life. She tugs on his hair and he sneaks his tongue inside her mouth, exploring every inch of it.

He caresses his tongue against hers, and it’s all teeth clashing against each other, and he’s sucking greedily on her bottom lip, drinking her in. He parts from her lips and makes his way down her neck, kissing against her skin avidly. He bites the tender juncture where her neck meets her shoulder and then licks against the bite, soothing the skin. He blows against the mark and then keeps going down, the low neck of her dress allowing him access.

“Fuck” he breathes against her skin, “I waited years for this”.

A whine comes out choked from his throat and she sighs heavily. He brushes his fingers against her arms, tugging down the sleeves of her dress with him.

“Are you drunk? How much did you have to drink?” He asks mindfully, parting from her skin and looking agonizingly into her eyes.

“I’m not that drunk” she states, her chest heaving with every breath she takes, “I feel okay. Do you?”

He leans down to leave a kiss between her eyes and she closes them, not missing the affection behind his gesture.

“Yes” he whispers, and YN can feel his breath against her mouth. She rises her head and their mouths meet in a shy peck.

He then leans down to kiss her shoulder, and then tugs her dress down, exposing the skin of her breasts.

She instinctively brings her hands to cover herself, her palms shielding her pebbled nipples, and “sorry, if it’s not… if I’m not…” she shakes her head, feeling pathetic in her shyness.

With gentle hands he grabs both of her wrists and tugs them down, then he switches hands so he could hold them with just one hand, and he brings the other one to her side boob, caressing the skin with his thumb.

She shivers under his touch, goosebumps pebbling against her skin, and she watches his every move, as his fingertips continue their path down her body, caressing her side and resting at her waist.

He splatters a hand against her stomach, stroking the skin softly, “Look at me” he says, and his tone is soft but has a dominancy to it, and YN finds herself obedient to him, and she rises her glance to meet his, albeit shyly.

“It’s me” he says, “it’s me” he repeats. As if to say, I’m an old friend, and nothing has changed.

Does he know she’d dreamt of this feeling in the comfort of her bedroom many times?

“I know” she whispers, “i’m just…”

“You’re perfect.” He chimes in, “ the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen”. And he’s aware he shouldn’t be like this. He’s aware he could be making a fool out of himself, because even if she has consented to this, this doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It doesn’t mean she feels it too. But he has to tell her, now that he has a chance. Now that his behavior and sappy compliments could be misjudged as coming from horniness. He can tell her now. Just this once, she can have everything.

She smiles shyly at his compliment and she nods her head briefly, “okay?” He repeats, “okay” she reassures.

And they’re back to square one, but this time, when Harry leans in to take her right nipple in his mouth, she doesn’t stop him. She frees her wrists from his hold and brings a hand to the back of his head, pushing herself into his mouth.

When his teeth graze the sensitive skin of her hardened nipple, she lets out a whimper, and Harry, avid and eager to hear the sound again, bites gently on it.

“You’re so sensitive” he breaths out, as he continues sucking on her nipple.

He brings the hand that rested against her stomach to take her other breast, and he pinches the other nipple between his thumb and index finger.

He parts from her nipple, breathing heavily, and YN lets out a loud sigh at the sight of his lips shiny with his spit and swollen from the kissing. He’s gorgeous.

He brushes his thumb against her nipple, and “more” she pleads, begging him.

He chuckles breathlessly, “can you take your clothes off for daddy?” He asks, and YN feels herself almost faint on the spot. Of course he’d have a daddy kink.

She gulps and with trembling hands she reaches behind her back to unzip her dress.

She halters her movement once she remembers a tiny detail they both didnt notice, “the door” she stresses, “we didn’t lock the door”

He throws a glance towards the door, and stands from the big desk, walking towards it.

“The door doesn’t lock” he says after checking.

“Fuck” she breaths out.

He turns around, a sly smirk adoring his features, and he makes his way back to her.

“That just means I’ll have to be quick” he grins.

He places a hand on her waist and gives her a reassuring squeeze, “take the dress off”.

And YN reaches behind her back and tugs the zip down. She’d never had someone refer to themselves as her daddy before, and she feels so hot and wet she’s sure her panties are completely ruined. She doesn’t miss how he’s still completely dressed, and she pouts her lips at him, “you too”

“Shh” he shushes her, “daddy makes the rules”.

She bites hard on her bottom lip and with her fingers she pushes the loosened dress down her body, to pool at her feet.

She’s just in her heels now, and she looks down at her feet, but before she can reach down to untie them, he stops her, “leave those on”.

She nods cautiously and when she sees him take a step towards her, she takes one back involuntarily. He’s looking at her as if he wanted to devour her, and she feels small before his eyes. And she likes that. Because this time, even if he’s in control, he’s completely dependent on her. And there’s a power in that too.

Her butt meets the cold surface of the desk, and she jumps surprised at first, then she sits against it. Once he reaches her, he brings one hand on her outer thigh, caressing the skin there.

“S’soft” he murmurs, looking avidly into her eyes with his green ones.

“Scoot up” he orders, patting her thigh, and she obeys, sitting her bum on the desk.

With one hand against her chest he pushes her down, so she can lean against the surface, and she shivers once her back meets with the cold desk.

“Aw” he coos, “are you cold baby?”

She hums, her hands subconsciously come up to shield her tummy from the cold, but he’s quick to grab them, “don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep yeh warm”

She gulps and closes her eyes once she feels him shift on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with where she needs him most.

He brings his hands on her knees and parts them, but YN is quick to stop him with her anxious thoughts: “Harry” she breaths out “we don’t have time, the door doesn’t lock. There’s no time”

“Shh, baby, shh now.” He whispers, parting her knees once again, and she feels him speak against the skin of her inner thigh as he slowly, agonizingly, makes his way towards her clothed pussy.

“Don’t call me Harry, yeh know better” he says, and with his palm he swats down on her cunt, making her let out a surprised moan, the much needed contact on her clit making the blood rush to her brain.

“Let daddy make you feel good, huh? The quicker yeh are, the less chance we get caught” he smiles mischievously. She hums and closes her eyes forcefully.

“Can’t believe yeh made me wait years to taste yah, such a bad girl” he says, and YN can feel his breath against her cunt, even though she isn’t sure what he’s doing right now with her eyes closed.

She feels his hands on her knees again and he opens them more to have better access, and then, he lays his tongue flat against her still clothed pussy and takes a big stripe, from her entrance to her clit.

She whimpers at the contact, her hips shifting, following his mouth.

He chuckles against her skin, moving the tip of his tongue once again to her center, “tastes so sweet…”

She wants to ask for more, but she’s sure that if she were to ask him, he wouldn’t oblige, only teasing her further, so she keeps quiet, biting so hard on her bottom lip she can feel blood rush to the surface.

He brings one hand to twist the top of her panties and he tugs the fabric upwards, so he could see the outline of her pussy from behind them.

“So pretty” he says, and YN whines at the sensation of her now too tight panties against her clit.

He brings his middle finger to her pussy and caresses her clit with a light touch that’s not remotely satisfying enough, and then presses down on it.

“Please” she begs, her legs fighting to close, because despite the contact not being enough, it’s still something.

“Please, what?” He chuckles darkly, his middle finger moving in circles on her clit now, but she needs to feel him without the fabric between them.

“More” she simply says.

“Tha’s not enough, pretty girl… you’ve been sooo bad, I think I should leave this pretty pussy as it is…”

“No, Harry, please, please, I need it. Please. I want you to touch me”

“Ah, Ah, Ah” he tsk, “i told yeh not to call me tha’” he’s really enjoying watching her squirm under his touch, and he brings his thumb down to her entrance to push in a bit, her hole sucking the fabric right in.

“I’m sorry, daddy” she whispers, embarrassed, “please”

He smiles victoriously and with two fingers he picks the fabric of her panties and snaps it back against her cunt, “see, that wasn’t so hard, huh?”

She shakes her head and lets out a whimper.

“Do yeh want my mouth or my fingers?” He asks, as he leans down to tug at her underwear.

“Both” she pants.

“Soooo greedy” he teases, but once her panties are out of the way, he doesn’t waste a second before he’s spreading her legs open, and he watches as her lips part, exposing her pussy to him completely.

Her clit is swollen between them, and he thinks maybe he’s teased enough, so he leans down and finally takes it in his mouth, sucking on it avidly.

YN lets out a loud moan when his tongue finally comes in contact with her clit, and she brings one hand down to bury between his hair, pushing him against her.

He moves the tip of his tongue sideways against her clit, and then against the under part of it, where he finds she’s most sensitive.

With his middle finger, he caresses at her entrance, massaging around before he pushes it in, burying it to the knuckle. The fit is tight, and he wonders how much time it has been since she’s slept with someone.

Still sucking on her clit, he starts moving his finger in and out, curling it every once in a while against that spongy part inside her, sure from the sounds that leave her mouth and the wetness that’s coating his finger, that she’s enjoying this just as much as he is.

Once he feels her walls loosening up a bit, he withdraws his finger to draw a second on in, and she gasps at the feeling.

“Shh” he shushes, “relax. I’ll take care of anything, let daddy take care of yeh”

After a couple of pushes, she relaxes, and he starts moving up the speed of his fingers, still sucking on her swollen button. She lets out whimpers and little mewls, and he understands she’s close by the way her walls flutter against his fingers.

He’s both rough and soft in the way he’s taking her, and YN wonders how that could even be possible. She doesn’t stay on the question much longer, though, because she starts to feel the unmistakable pressure of an orgasm blossoming in the pit of her stomach, and she clenches around his fingers.

“I’m gonna cum” she blurts out, “i’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum… oh!” She feels him speed the movement of his fingers inside her, and he starts alternating between sucking on her clit attend staking it with his tongue rapidly.

“Cum, baby, cum for me” he hums against her clit, and she feels the vibrations of his voice right against the bundle of nerves, and that’s what eventually pushes her to the edge.

She arches her back as her legs fight to close, and Harry guides her through her orgasm as he keeps fingering her, this time bringing his thumb to stroke against her clit because he wants to watch her when she cums.

He feels her walls flutter close as they push his fingers out, and he rolls her clit in circular motions with his finger until she’s back from her high, breathing hard with her chest heaving. He leans down to lap at her juices, “wanna lick yeh clean” he says, and he does, tonguing at her entrance and drowning in her wetness.

He leaves a final kiss to her clit and she whimpers at the sensitivity of it all, her back still against the desk.

“You okay?” He asks after some time, and he notices how her chest is still heaving with big breaths.

“Yes, give me a minute and I’ll return the favor” she replies, mechanically, and Harry furrows his brows at her statement.

Of course, he was delighted that she wanted to return the favor… but was that all it was? A favor? He suddenly feels confused and the previous excitement that had run through his veins left place to a kind of disappointment he didn’t know what to make of. He thought he had been pretty obvious with his feelings, and with the way he had shown them, but maybe, nothing had changed since college, and he was still that guy that got rejected many times by the girl he thought was the prettiest and nicest.

“It’s okay” he shrugs, his voice suddenly low and stern, “i’m okay” he continues.

YN rises her back from the desk and looks at him pointedly, and once she takes in his serious features, she feels her heart jump to her stomach.

Oh. He doesn’t want her to. That’s what it is.

She suddenly thinks about how stupid she had been to kiss him. Of course she doesn’t regret it, because she could never regret what it led to, but being rejected like this? Fuck, she certainly wasn’t expecting it.

Wasn’t he turned on? She swore she could have felt his hard cock brush against her a couple of times, but maybe after he had eaten her out, it went down?

That’s one thing that had never happened to her, despite her many insecurities, and she feels her ego suddenly bruised.

She nods and gets up from her position, her feet touching the ground. She watches as he lowers to her feet and picks up her dress, handing it to her.

She suddenly feels too exposed, which is weird, after what happened, and the air had turned cold and uncomfortable, and she can’t wait to leave the classroom and go home, tucked away in the comfort of her bedroom where she figures she’ll spend the entire weekend, given this soul crushing experience she just had.

She takes the dress from his hold and notices how he turns his back to her, giving her privacy to redress, which is nice, of course, but totally necessary, and it’s making her really paranoid, because is he so grossed out by her body he doesn’t want to take another look at it?

She slips in the dress, and tries to zip it herself, but when she realizes she can’t zip it all the way, she clears her throat to gain his attention.

“Can you?” She gestures towards the back with her thumb, and he gives her a swift nod before circling her and standing behind her.

He brushes the hair from her back and drapes it over her one shoulder, his fingertips brush against her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She hears the sound of the zip being pulled up and he clears his throat, “all done” he says, and she doesn’t miss how it’s the only thing he’s said in a while.

“Thank you” she smiles, and he gives her a small one back, but his dimples don’t appear, and she’s saddened by that realization.

“We should go” he trails off, “’s gettin’ pretty late”

YN doesn’t have a watch on her but she figures it couldn’t be later than midnight, but if he wants to go, she certainly can’t stop him, albeit a little disappointed. This isn’t how she was hoping the night would end.

Harry walks to the door and opens it, letting her out first, and they walk in silence to the entrance of the school.

“Do you have your car?” He asks, and when she nods, he says: “Can you drive? Want me to call yeh a cab?”

“No, I’m fine. I told you I’m not that drunk” she shrugs, and she really can’t help but think how she wishes she was drunk instead. None of this would’ve happened, and she would be able to look him in the eye without feeling the embarrassment of his rejection.

“Goodnight, then” he says, giving her a curt wave of the hand before heading off toward the parking lot.

“Goodnight” she says back, but he’s already left.

…

The weekend flies by and once Monday arrives, YN is dreading the school day. She almost debates calling in sick, but she knows it would only make the situation worse, because sooner or later she’d have to face a curly headed lad she wasn’t particularly keen on seeing, the embarrassment from that Friday night still vivid in her memory. She pondered long on that night, sipping wine directly from the bottle (for dramatic purposes of course), and she wondered what could she had done wrong to make him react that way. Men, in general, were always kind of difficult to understand, to her, so she figures he probably just wasn’t that aroused anymore. Which is fine, she has to tell herself that at least a million times, because the rejection is so painful and overall embarrassing she doesn’t know what to make of it.

When she walks in the classroom that day, to her surprise Aidi is already sitting at her desk, her pudgy hand wrapped around a brown crayon that she’s moving in circles on the paper, drawing something YN can’t quite make out.

It wasn’t weird, the school offered pre-school from 6 am to the parents that had to work early in the mornings, what was weird was her presence that early, something that in the school year had never occurred before.

She wonders if Harry did it on purpose. Maybe he didn’t want to face her, and she has to take a big breath before erasing that thought off her head. She shouldn’t care what he did. As many years before, he was never hers, and nothing had changed. She feels a little silly of course for thinking that he may have had a special kind of feeling for her, and despite him telling her that he did, she’s definitely convinced he was just playing around that night in his patio.

She makes her way to Aidi, and she crutches down next to her, “good morning, Aidi” she says softly as to not startle her.

“Mornin’ miss YN” she smiles a toothless grin, her hand not stopping her movements.

“You’re here early today, huh?”

“Yes” she nods, eagerly, “daddy’s at work”

“Oh” YN replies

“This early?” Is everything she’d like to ask, but it’s really wrong prodding on this poor child to get informations about her dad, so she erases the question from her mind.

“What are yeh drawin’?” She asks instead, to shift the attention from the feared topic. Despite her means not always being the most pure hearted, YN loves Aidi. She thinks she’s such a precious little thing, and she genuinely loves spending time with her.

“’s a picture of daddy ’n me” she says, picking the drawing up in her hands and showing it to her teacher, “love him s’much”

YN smiles fondly at the picture, a small stick figure holding hands with a bigger one that she figures are respectively Aidi and Harry, the irrefutable mop of curly hair drawn with the brown crayon.

“I know he loves you too” she simply says, “very much!”

“Yeah” Aidi agrees, picking up a blue crayon to color the sky.

…

It’s much later in the day, now, around four pm, and YN is waiting for the remaining kids to be picked up. The school is closing earlier today due to a mandatory rat disinfestation, that the parents were notified of about ten days before, and one by one every kid is picked up and ready to go home, every kid but one, she can’t help but notice. Aidi.

She tries to not pay too much attention to the irony of it all, and she wonders to what means Harry would go to not see her.

Maybe he forgot about the disinfestation? She doesn’t know, and despite fearing the answer to the question, she’s his daughter’s teacher. And she’s an adult. So she takes her phone from the back pocket and with trembling hands she looks through her contacts until she finds his name.

The feeling of calling someone you don’t really want to hear, and being aware of the mutualness of this deep rooted fear, is something that never really leaves. Not even at 26. Not even now that she has a big girl job and an apartment all alone.

The piercing sound of the line ringing has her bringing a thumb to her mouth, biting on her nails nervously. She peeks at Aidi that’s playing with a doll on the floor, and she’s glad she appears to be unaware of the situation. A parent forgetting to pick you up is something that can scar you for life.

“‘llo?” She hears from the other side of the line, and she almost jumps in her place at the sound of his voice.

It took him a while to answer, which is uncommon for him, and she wonders what he was doing. Was he working? But then again, he said he was a writer, so she figures he must be working from home? “Hi, Harry… it’s YN”

“I know who it is. I’m kinda busy, wha’s wrong?” He stresses, and YN feels her heart beat fast.

“Oh, nothing… ’s just, when are you picking Aidi up?”

“I don’t know” he says sternly, “i’m kind of out of town right now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours and take her then”

“You can’t do that, didn’t you get the email? The school’s closing early… rat disinfestation an’all tha’… ’s not like we have rats, don’t worry. ’s just mandatory, and the school is required to do…”

“Fuck!” He interrupts, “it must have slipped my mind this morning. Fuck!” He repeats.

YN hears him shuffle on the other end of the phone, and after a brief moment she hears a quiet explanation of the situation to what she figures is another person, and a hurried ‘goodbye’.

He clears his throat, “are yeh still there?”

“Yes, hi, yes” she rumbles.

“I’m gettin’ in the car now, it’ll take an hour I think. Forty minutes if I hurry. Can yeh… can she… is she allowed to stay? Fuck, — he seems to be talking to himself now, and she hears the loud sound of his car horn beeping — who even gave yeh a license! Fuckin’ hell” he shouts.

“Harry” she trails off, hoping to catch his attention, “’s okay. I can take her until you’re not here. We could go get some ice cream, or yogurt!! Whichever she’s craving more. Wait… Is she allowed to eat ice cream? Because I know this delicious place…”

“YN!” He interrupts her again, “please get to the point”

“Oh… i was just talkin’ about this ice cream place it’s nothing serious”

“‘nough with the ice cream already! Can you really take her? I can pay you, like I would a nanny… yeh know I’m proper loaded so money isn’t a problem.”

“What? I don’t want your money. ‘f course I can take her! She’s such a cutie, we’re gonna have so much fun!!!” She smiles happily.

“Thank you” he sighs, relieved, “i’ll be there in an hour, more or less”

“Okay. Drive safe, you don’t have to worry ‘bout her, she’s safe” she reassures him. Because then again, Harry is Aidi’s father, and she knows how much he worries when it comes to her.

“Okay” he says, and he appears calmer now, “but no ice cream before dinner, YN!”

She scoffs, “you’re no fun”.

Didn’t he say ‘enough with the ice cream’?

…

YN ended up buying the ice cream for both her and Aidi anyway.

(There was something so delicious about eating ice cream during the winter, and one thing abut being a grown up, YN had found out, was being able to eat whatever she wanted and whenever she wanted)

And the biggest cone she’s ever seen, too. Two scoops of chocolate and one of strawberry for Aidi. Screw Harry. That’s what she thought when paying for it, now… she felt a little guilty, of course, but she’d begged Aidi to keep this ice cream run a secret between her and her teacher, using the term on purpose because she knows how much kids respect their teachers.

So… she figured he’d never know.

“’s good, moppet?” She cooed, picking up a couple of tissues from the dispenser in the middle of the table to wipe at her mouth.

Aidi only nodded, too busy with her ice cream cone to pay much attention to YN.

“Oh no!” Aidi pouted once the ice cream started dripping from her cone to her hand and finally to her white coat and white tights, the candid fabric now dirty with dark stains.

“Oh god!” YN exclaims, “wait, let me help”

YN picked up some other tissues and started wiping at Aidi’s hands, who switches the cone from one hand to the other while she cleans her, but maybe letting a four years old eat an ice cream cone wasn’t the best of ideas.

“Daddy’s gonna get mad” Aidi giggles when YN started wiping at the stain on her clothes without much result.

“Probably… with me though” she agrees, nodding her head thoughtfully.

“Sooo mad” she keeps giggling, “he always say: no ice cream before dinner!” She repeats, trying to mock his stern voice but failing, and resulting in the most adorable thing YN had ever seen, and she can’t help but laugh too.

“He’s such a meanie” she smiles, tossing the dirty tissues on the table before her.

“I won’t tell, miss YN” Aidi reassures, and YN smiles once she sees her little pink tongue peeking out from her mouth and trying to lick the chocolate ice cream off the side of her mouth.

“Thank you bug” she says, chuckling, “but I think he’s gonna notice” she frowns, pointing to the state of Aidi’s white tights.

“Mhmh” she agrees, humming.

“When is he back?” She asks after a while, her tummy full of ice cream, a satisfied look on her face.

YN taps the screen of her phone on the table to check the time, “i think he’s almost here”

“How much time?” She asks, swaying her little legs from the edge of the chair.

“Mmmhh,” YN ponders, she’s certain a four years old conception of time isn’t the same as an adult, so she gestures with her hands a small portion. “This much”.

“Oh, ‘kay!” She exclaims happily, “so… almost” she nods proudly.

YN giggles at her antics and reciprocates her nod, “yes”.

After about half an hour, her and Aidi are tucked away in the warmth of her car, the heating full blasting, and YN even removed her coat to let Aidi snuggle in it. She’d fallen asleep almost instantly once her cheek touched the window, and YN decided it would be best to just wait for Harry in her car after the ice cream. She couldn’t possibly bring Aidi to her house, and Harry had previously told her it’d take him only an hour, so she figured that was the best option.

Despite Harry’s good resolutions, he called at around six, almost two hours after she’d called him from the school, but YN was glad he took his time and didn’t speed, as she had told him on the phone, Aidi was safe with her.

She’s driving in silence to his house now, where they accorded to meet, trying to drive the best she can to avoid potholes as to not wake Aidi up.

Harry’s already going to be mad about the ice cream, and he’s already avoiding her all together, so she certainly thought it wasn’t a good idea to leave him with a fussy toddler on top of all that.

Once she reaches his house, she parks near the curb and texts him that she’s outside.

He opens the door right away, almost as if he was expecting them from behind it, looking from the peep hole, and YN notices how, despite him being home for at least a good five minutes, he was still wearing his coat and shoes.

“Hi” YN greets him softly, somehow the tenderness of the situation easing the embarrassment she felt prior.

She’s aware he was beating himself up for forgetting about his daughter.

“Hey” he says, walking to the car and opening the passenger’s side door, “she asleep?”

YN nods her head, “out like a light”

When Harry leans down to pick his daughter up, he cradles her to his chest between his arms, holing her tight and placing a long, harsh kiss on her hair.

YN felt her heart clench at the sight. She understood he felt guilty, and she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, and he most certainly wasn’t the first parent to forget to pick up their kid from school, and had it been four days ago, she probably would’ve told him. But now, after what had happened, how was she supposed to? Harry made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with her, romantically and sexually, so was it her place to reassure him?

“I’m so sorry baby” he whispers against her hair, and YN has to refrain herself to stretch out a hand to comfort him.

“Le’s get yah to bed, huh?”

But when Harry goes to turn around, a small whimper comes from the little kid in his arms, and YN can see a small arm reaching towards her.

“Miss YN?” Aidi asks, voice laced with sleep, and she knuckles tiredly at her eyes when YN smiles at her.

“Daddy, want miss YN to read me a story” Aidi demands, looking up at her father with big, puppy eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure your teacher has more important things t…”

“I’ll read to her, ’s fine” YN chimes in quickly, because honestly, she really didn’t want this day to end. And Aidi particularly requested her, so who was Harry to deny it?

“YN” Harry warns, sternly, but YN has already made her way towards them, tickling at Aidi’s neck softly, “I’ll read how many stories yah want, moppet”

YN tries not to feel too disappointed when she hears Harry’s quiet scoff.

…

“Goodnight, Aidi” YN says softly, placing the hard cover book on her little bedside table on her right.

She’d read Aidi and her stuffed animals three stories, one about a frog that was too scared to go to school, the other about a cute elephant that wanted to be a ballerina, and the last one (Harry said it was her favorite) about a princess bunny that enjoyed drinking tea with her friends.

Aidi had chuckled every time YN did different voices for the animals characters, and after Harry told her she had to read to her stuffed animals too (she had five tucked next to her), she had started asking them every now and then if they were enjoying the story or if she had to reread something they didn’t understand.

Harry had watched the scene fondly, and his heart had grown in his chest, full with love he knew he wasn’t supposed to feel. It was nice, watching how tender YN was with his daughter, and despite the warm feeling in his limbs, he felt bitter. Because why couldn’t he have that. What was it so hard to love about him that not only the mother of his child had left, but also the girl he’d been in love with since college?

After saying goodbye to Aidi, YN throws an awkward smile to him and walks out of the room, waiting just beside the wall. She knew Aidi wanted to be tucked in by her daddy, she had told her many times how he always said I love you, and she thought she’d give them some privacy.

She could still hear them from outside the room, the door still open, and she bit her bottom lip hard once she heard the sound of Harry’s kisses and Aidi’s quiet giggling.

“Daddy loves you so much, bug. Don’t ever forget that” she hears him say in a soft voice.

“How much?” She hears Aidi ask, and she picks up on that question she’d asked her about the time previously at the ice cream shop. This was probably something she did often with Harry, and she really had to refrain herself from peeking inside the room to watch them.

“This much!” He laughs. “How much does Aidi love her daddy?”

“What!!!” She hears him say, probably feigning shock, “that little!”

“Yes, only a little” Aidi playfully giggles, and then Harry makes a growling sound and: “the tickle monster’s gonna getcha!”

Laughter erupts and it reverberates in the hallway, and YN feels silly for standing there, invading on their privacy, so she gets off the wall and walks quietly down the hallway, reaching the staircase.

She makes her way downstairs, and once she reaches the sitting room she picks up her coat from the armrest of the couch, tugging it close to her chest to try and warm herself from the imminent cold feeling running through her body.

She hears Harry clear his throat behind her, and she jumps a little in her place.

“Didn’t hear yah there” she gasps, bringing one hand up to rest against her beating heart.

“YN, thank you for today. I really…” she watches as he shakes his head, avoiding her gaze, looking for the correct words to choose, “’m proper grateful fo’ what you did.”

“’s okay, Harry” she interrupts him, “you don’t have to thank me. I love Aidi, she’s such a sweet kid”

“She is” he agrees, “but still. Thank you.”

She nods her head at his words and gulps, and she really should’ve left it at that. It was probably the best thing to do; what any normal and sane person would do. She should’ve just accepted his thank yous, put on her coat and left, but she didn’t.

“I never should have kissed you, Harry” she starts, “I’m so sorry if I overstepped some boundaries, I thought…” she sighs, biting harshly on her bottom lip. She doesn’t know what possessed her to say that, maybe the urge to get things back to normal, because it had been three days since the kiss and she already missed how comfortable their relationship had gotten.

“YN…” he shakes his head, stopping her, “’s okay, ’s the past, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but… I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t”

“What are you sayin’, YN… that you regret it? The kiss? Tha’s what you’re sayin’?” He scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest, almost like a pouty child.

“Well I… no, but… it was kind of embarrassing” she chuckles nervously, her fingers tightening their grip around the thick fabric of her coat.

“So you do regret it. ’s fine. I understood right away, clearly nothing has changed between us, you’re still really hard to read and I’m kind of tired of trying to understand you” he snaps, passing a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“I’m hard to read? — YN humorlessly chuckles, pointing an accusatory finger to him — You’re confusing! You tell me you liked me and then after I let you eat me out you leave me like that? That was so embarrassing, why would you do that?”

“Oh… are you sad you didn’t get to return the favor? You made me feel like a fuckin’ slut!” He says, exasperated.

“Is that what you’re so mad about? That I called it a… favor?” Her brows pinch at the front, and she looks at him pointedly.

“No, I’m mad because I love you and you’ve been playing with my feeling since we were fuckin’ 20 years old. But don’t worry. It’s clear now.” He snaps, somehow trying to keep his voice down to not wake Aidi.

YN feels her head spin at the conversation, and his words replay in her head, hauntingly.

“You love me?” She repeats in a small voice, but he seems to not get her question, because he keeps rambling: “I’ll get a nanny, okay? So we’ll never see each other again at school, and once the semester ends I’ll sign Aidi to another class, she’ll be so sad but it’s fine, it’ll pass. I’ll try and find someone before the end of the week, so we’ll never…”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” She chuckles, because the situation is funny to her and she’s still hang up on those three words he said. She doesn’t miss the bewildered look that displays across his feature, his green eyes bright and reflecting in the dim yellowy light of his sitting room.

“Figured yeh’d laugh! ’s funny to you, innit?”

“It is a little bit funny. — she nods, grinning — I don’t want you to do any of that!”

“YN… i don’t think I can see you everyday and…” he sighs, his sweater clad chest heaving.

“Harry” she stops him, raising a hand up to squeeze his bicep between her fingers, in a way to make sure he was giving her undefined attention “I don’t want you to do that because I don’t want to stop seeing you. I didn’t think you loved me”

“I literally told you! So many times! And I think I showed it too…” he shakes his head, but doesn’t remove his arm from her hold.

“I kissed you! I thought you understood!” She exclaims, pinching the fabric of his sweater with her fingers.

“How am I supposed to understand if you don’t tell me anything!” He says, and for the first time, he locks eyes with her, his gaze softening at the sight of her big eyes looking hopefully inside his.

She giggles despite the uncomfortable conversation, and Harry shakes his head, “You’re so frustrating” he admits, sighing heavily once again.

“And you’re silly! I let you eat me out!” She whispers, even if it’s just them, because the intimacy of that gesture didn’t go unnoticed by her.

He doesn’t say anything, his gaze unfocused.

“I’m sorry I never said it back. — she admits, sighing — I really liked you. I didn’t think you’d even noticed me… I didn’t realize how hard I was being. I’m really sorry.”

“YN… ’s fine, I’ll get over it” he trails off, once again.

“No, listen to me, okay? I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t know, back then. And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when you told me weeks ago. I thought you weren’t being serious. But I liked you too, I really did. And I wasted a lot of years thinking you didn’t like me back, but it’s not your fault. I should’ve been more… more clear, maybe”

“Yeah, that would have saved us many years probably” he agrees, his heart in his throat, wary of her next words.

“Yeah” she agrees, “what I’m trying to say is that… I loved you and I still love you. If you still want me. I love you” she confesses, and she feels as if a weight has been lifted from her chest, the heaviness of her words finally setting her free after so many years of bottling up her own feelings.

“You really hurt me” he whispers, looking harshly into her eyes, and he bites the inside of his cheek before saying, “really hurt me. It’s unfair you’re telling me now”

YN swallows down her saliva, biting hard on her bottom lip, the harshness of his words hitting her, because truly, she never really thought about his feelings.

On the other hand, she’d like to tell him how much he had hurt her, and embarrassed her, but what good could it do? She already revealed the most important thing about herself: that she loved him. And she hoped it wasn’t too late.

“It’s okay if you… if you don’t like me anymore” she shakes her head, scared of her own words, because she doesn’t really mean them. It’s not okay. She doesn’t want to give him away. She wants him.

“I know ’s been a long time, but…” she continues, “I thought you had to know how I feel about you, because I never said it back. And I’m not a spiritual person for shit, but… I can’t help but think maybe this is another chance to make things right. I had to tell you. I couldn’t not tell you. And I’m really sorry for hurting you. I’ll leave now, if you don’t want me here…”

“We can pretend this conversation never happened and just… you don’t have to make Aidi change classes, I like her” she says, and it comes out in a plea, really, because she doesn’t think she has it in her to lose them now. If he wants to pretend this heartfelt conversation never happened, she’ll be sad, but she’ll do it. For the sake of their “friendship”. Because she doesn’t want to lose him again.

Harry seems to ponder a bit on her words, and in that space of time she’s almost ready to put her coat on and leave, as she should’ve done before, and she’s almost there. She’s on the point of slipping her coat on, but Harry raises one hand and takes her coat from her hold, throwing it on the couch beside them.

“I don’t want you to leave” he whispers, taking a step in front of him, they’re so close now their chests are almost touching, “don’t leave.”

“Okay” she nods, “I won’t.”

He leans down to be closer to her face and he presses his lips on her forehead, not quite kissing her, more like a comforting presence, and she feels the tenderness of his gesture.

“You really do make me go mad” he sighs against her skin, his arms sneaking around her waist, squeezing her against him. “But I love you too”

YN feels her inside warm at his words, and she wraps her arms around him too, squeezing him tightly. She was never good with words, and she’s glad he understood anyway, despite her messy attempt at confessing her feelings.

She looks up to him then, resting her chin on his chest, and he leans down to press his lips against hers. This kiss is much different than the last one, much more soft and less hungry, and even when he slips his tongue to lick at her bottom lip, there’s nothing but tenderness in his gestures.

He brings one hand up to caress her cheek, his fingertip light as a feather against her skin, and YN feels herself melt in his hold. The gesture makes her think back about that time on the bus, how he had touched her so softly, almost scared he’d ruin her, and she thinks about how much things have changed, but mostly nothing had, because he loved her then and he loves her now!

His tongue brushes against hers, and she sighs into his mouth happily.

When he parts from her mouth, he gives her another small peck, his lips wet against hers, and “taste like chocolate” he hums against her lips.

“Mmh, about that…” she ponders, “you might have to buy Aidi a new coat, don’t think those stains are gonna come out”

“Yeah? I thought I told yah no ice cream ‘fore dinner?”

YN laughs a laugh through her nose, and leans in to kiss him again, “you love me”, and there’s nothing but adoration in her eyes.

“I do” he agrees, looking at her fondly.

“And by the way, don’t worry about the coat” he smiles, “reckon I’ve gotten quite good at doin’ laundry, there’s no stain that can resist me”

“I’m really proud of you” she cackles jokingly, “i remember your mum used to do it for yah”

“Heyyyy” he pouts, “only sometimes”

She raises on her tiptoes to press her lips to his in a brief peck, but when she goes to part from him, he only squeezes her tighter against him to deepen the kiss.

“Let’s go upstairs” he breaths out, “you still have a favor to return” he says playfully, and one hand travels down to her bum to pinch at the skin.

She swats at his chest but turns around, in a hurry to reach the stairs, “yeah” she agrees, turning to look at him with a mischievous smile splayed across her mouth “we wasted enough time already”

“Tell me about it” he mumbles, biting his bottom lip as he watches her sly smirk, “thank god you finally came to your senses”

They both laugh at his words, and Harry follows her upstairs to his room, picking her up and throwing her on his bed. That night, he finally gets to kiss all over her body, as he had dreamt many many times, not only in college, but even then, when he thought she was too far away to reach despite seeing her every morning when he left his daughter at school.

Harry, too, isn’t a spiritual person for shit, but maybe, he allows himself to think, this is what it means to be loved, and he finally doesn’t have to wonder anymore what’s so hard to love about him, because, despite not knowing, he’s always been loved, in the years he’d known her, and YN, in the arch of their relationship, and in it’s imminent future, will make sure to tell him that, many times, and the memory of all the wasted years, will remain, thankfully, what it always was: a memory.

Just wanted to take this small space to thank you all for liking and reblogging the first part, you have no idea how happy you made me, so thank you so so so much 😭 the story is over but i can do updates in the future if you guys want <3, i really hope part 2 didn't disappoint, feedback is very much appreciated. love you all

🏷️ taglist: @indierockgirrl @onlystylesss28 @gemofthenight @summertime-pills @lomlhstyles @sicklscream @watarmelon212

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles angst #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harrys house #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles love on tour #dad harry styles #dad!harry

2K notes · View notes

probablyasocialecologist · 3 months ago

Text

The programmer Simon Willison has described the training for large language models as “money laundering for copyrighted data,” which I find a useful way to think about the appeal of generative-A.I. programs: they let you engage in something like plagiarism, but there’s no guilt associated with it because it’s not clear even to you that you’re copying. Some have claimed that large language models are not laundering the texts they’re trained on but, rather, learning from them, in the same way that human writers learn from the books they’ve read. But a large language model is not a writer; it’s not even a user of language. Language is, by definition, a system of communication, and it requires an intention to communicate. Your phone’s auto-complete may offer good suggestions or bad ones, but in neither case is it trying to say anything to you or the person you’re texting. The fact that ChatGPT can generate coherent sentences invites us to imagine that it understands language in a way that your phone’s auto-complete does not, but it has no more intention to communicate. It is very easy to get ChatGPT to emit a series of words such as “I am happy to see you.” There are many things we don’t understand about how large language models work, but one thing we can be sure of is that ChatGPT is not happy to see you. A dog can communicate that it is happy to see you, and so can a prelinguistic child, even though both lack the capability to use words. ChatGPT feels nothing and desires nothing, and this lack of intention is why ChatGPT is not actually using language. What makes the words “I’m happy to see you” a linguistic utterance is not that the sequence of text tokens that it is made up of are well formed; what makes it a linguistic utterance is the intention to communicate something. Because language comes so easily to us, it’s easy to forget that it lies on top of these other experiences of subjective feeling and of wanting to communicate that feeling. We’re tempted to project those experiences onto a large language model when it emits coherent sentences, but to do so is to fall prey to mimicry; it’s the same phenomenon as when butterflies evolve large dark spots on their wings that can fool birds into thinking they’re predators with big eyes. There is a context in which the dark spots are sufficient; birds are less likely to eat a butterfly that has them, and the butterfly doesn’t really care why it’s not being eaten, as long as it gets to live. But there is a big difference between a butterfly and a predator that poses a threat to a bird. A person using generative A.I. to help them write might claim that they are drawing inspiration from the texts the model was trained on, but I would again argue that this differs from what we usually mean when we say one writer draws inspiration from another. Consider a college student who turns in a paper that consists solely of a five-page quotation from a book, stating that this quotation conveys exactly what she wanted to say, better than she could say it herself. Even if the student is completely candid with the instructor about what she’s done, it’s not accurate to say that she is drawing inspiration from the book she’s citing. The fact that a large language model can reword the quotation enough that the source is unidentifiable doesn’t change the fundamental nature of what’s going on. As the linguist Emily M. Bender has noted, teachers don’t ask students to write essays because the world needs more student essays. The point of writing essays is to strengthen students’ critical-thinking skills; in the same way that lifting weights is useful no matter what sport an athlete plays, writing essays develops skills necessary for whatever job a college student will eventually get. Using ChatGPT to complete assignments is like bringing a forklift into the weight room; you will never improve your cognitive fitness that way.

31 August 2024

#ai #artificial intelligence #ai art #chatgpt #generative ai #ted chiang

106 notes · View notes

sturnlova · 9 months ago

Text

First time ( C.S )

(Chris Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, F & M receiving, kinda new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, fluff, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Chris : Orange

Y/N : Pink

Matt : Blue

Nick : Purple

Nathan : Red

(Word count : 900)

——————————————————

Me and Chris have been best friends for over 8 years and i’ve told him every secret expect one, i’m a virgin, but i didn’t feel the need to because he can’t do anything about it. well at least i thought he couldn’t

“Exactly bruh, Y/N when your fucking someone would u let them do anal cause i personally wouldn’t” i giggled at his comment and so did everyone else but i didn’t really now what to say since i’ve never done anything romantically like sex, it’s not like people didn’t want to do it with me i just wasn’t ready. Nate went on for a while about fucking girls and his own experiences until i grabbed my phone and hoodie and hopped off the couch to go to Chris’ room and lock myself in there until i was ready to come out. I heard Matt whisper yell at Chris to go check on me and find out what’s wrong.

“Y/N let me in please, i wanna know if you’re okay, what happened Y/N/N”

“please go away Chris it’s embarrassing it doesn’t concern you anyway.”

“ I’m not going away Y/N/N cmon we’re best friends you gotta tell me ill tell you a secret if you want me to”

A minute after i unlocked the door, Chris opened it to see me with a puffy face due to the tears of embarrassment i shed. “Wanna sit and talk about it, i promise i won’t judge ” Chris moved us to the bed and laid me on his chest for we could talk about why i was crying out of nowhere.

As we laid down and made ourself as comfortable as we could i let out a sigh and a whisper into his chest “i’m a virgin at my grown age, Chris i just don’t want to do it with someone i don’t connect with, you know.” Chris just runs his fingers through my hair as i talk about how i feel embarrassed about being a virgin and why i still am one.

A uncomfortable silence forms until Chris cuts it with a knife “if you don’t wanna do this we can forget about it but do you want me to help, like platonically of course.”

“Help?”

“Yeah help.”

“You will tell me how to do it?”

“Of course Y/N no one has to know if u don’t want people to know“

He stands up and asks if i’m 100% sure, “im 101% sure Chris” He takes of his top and i take this as a queue to take mine of to, chris is there with jorts on and i’m left with shorts and my bra on which he unclasp with a bit of a struggle, but it’s fine. He leans down to kiss me softly but passionately.

He lays me down on the bed and crawls on top me of me. He pulls down my shorts and panties, leaving me naked well he still has his shorts on. “Chris please can you take ur shorts off, or do something please, it feels weird being naked and ur not.” “yeah sweetheart i’ll take it off don’t worry” He takes them off as he speaks.

Sweetheart?

I have to be honest with Chris because after all we are best friend’s “what if it hurts Chris, many get a towel in case i bleed.” “It’s ok we don’t need a towel but i’ll be slow i promise and you can just tap my arm 2 times if u want me to stop, ok?” i nod my head in response. He spreads my legs open and places my ankles on his shoulders. He teases my pussy hole a bit making sure i’m stretched before anything more happens.

“Okay I’m ready Chris just go slow” he slowly adds his length to me, i hiss in response as this is a new feeling and his definitely not small “you ok? want to stop” “no no keep going” He finally adds it all to me and starts moving, i can feel his balls against my butt it’s a bit funny to me only because this is the same boy i used to force to let me practice make up on. He continues his thrust at a steady past well whispering praises in my ear.

I’m a moaning mess under him due to all the new sensations i’m feeling; his tip hits my cervix with every movement he does. Chris giggles, “what’s so funny lover boy?” “the fact you can barely talk ” “shut up” i say between my moans.

“Y/N i’m really close ok, i want you to cum all over my cock” he whimpers as he moves slower and sloppier. “Let go baby” we finish together and giggle at each other’s sweaty tired faces a couple seconds after. We lay in bed together naked in a comfortable silence.

“You did so good Y/N/N i’m so proud of you. Thank you for being comfortable with me.” he kisses my check “you want me to get ya dressed for we can go back down? Or you wanna stay here for a bit ” “Yeah can you please get me dressed before someone walks in, and also i know i don’t have to much experience but you’re good at fucking” Chris giggled and pulled out of me to add my clothes and his clothes back on.

Chris puts his clothes on then grabs me by the waist and puts my clothes on until Nate walks in our room.

“Did y’all fuck?”

“what?” i say with a tone that clearly had attitude to it.

“No we didn’t do that, she had really bad stomach pains and was crying so it might i’ve sounded like moans but it wasn’t..”

“Oh sorry than but why is she naked?”

“Nate get the fuck out”

Chris whispered in my ear “I’ll drop you off home baby” i started to blush and nodded my head and looked down.

✧༺✦✮✦༻༺✦✮✦༻✧

It’s been 4 months since Chris admitted his feelings to me after “helping me” and i couldn’t be more thankful. I now have the best boyfriend i could ever ask for, we also have an annoying but loveable Nate who saw us Post sex.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #smut #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic

282 notes · View notes

doctorbitchcrxft · 8 months ago

Text

Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)

Word Count: 5826

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Dean didn’t talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you.

‘Like a wart,’ you thought. ‘Or a blister, maybe.’

Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadn’t told Sam what you’d told him about your family which you were surprised by.

The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John.

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.”

He didn’t respond.

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” he finally answered.

“Busy doin’ what?” you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.

“Reading e-mails.”

Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean asked.

“Why not?” He still hadn’t turned his attention from his phone.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“And I couldn’t make my way into that lie?” you asked.

“What do I tell ‘em, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?” he chuckled. “And I don’t lie to them. I just don’t tell ‘em… everything.”

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” you retorted. “I get it, though, the truth is much worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

His older brother shrugged.

“You’re serious?” Sam wasn’t really asking.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean responded.

“How many friends do I have, Sam?” you asked him.

“Me.”

“Exactly,” you giggled.

“You two are kind of anti-social, you know that?” He returned to scrolling through his emails.

“Eh, whatever.” You flopped back on the bench seat.

“God….” Sam trailed off.

“What?” you and Dean asked.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean—”

Sam ignored the two of you. “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” his brother questioned.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

“Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

Sam wasn’t having it. “It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.

***

The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house you’d arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl.

‘Damn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,’ you thought.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam jested.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

“I got your e-mail.” His tone had become somber.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she answered earnestly.

Dean shoved in front of Sam. “Dean. Older brother.”

‘He’s making his fucking voice deeper again.’

She shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” You peeked out from behind Sam. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Nice to meet you!” You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. “Come in.”

“Nice place,” Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Becky explained.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.”

‘Of course, they fucking do.’

“Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked politely.

Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to cry.

‘She’s even pretty when she cries.’

“So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,” she relayed.

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasn’t picking up where Sam was going with this.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” the blonde asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Detective, actually,” Dean laughed.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just— I don’t know,” she said.

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent,” Sam replied.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends,” Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam responded.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.

***

“You’re sure this is okay?” Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.

Dean clearly was having fun with the whole “cop” thing. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.”

You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in.

She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes— Zack’s clothes. The police— they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” you asked her.

“He just changed.”

Dean turned over his shoulder to her. “Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder,” she shrugged.

You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway.

Dean came up behind you soon after. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“Yeah, prob—” you started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

You shot him a look. “The evidence is staring you in the face, and you still can’t admit you’re wrong.”

He shot a look back at you that said, ‘Don’t try me.’

Before you could push each other’s buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. “So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

How Becky was buying into Dean’s lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she giggled. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

The three of you went back to Becky’s parents’ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.

“22:04,” Dean noted the time stamp, “that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with,” Becky added.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam asked.

“Oh, sure,” she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Maybe some sandwiches, too?” He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her.

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she snarked.

“I wish,” Dean mumbled.

“Can you focus, please?” you asked him.

“What are you, my mother?” Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation.

“No, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I’d prefer not to watch it happen,” you replied playfully. “But look.” You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zack’s eyes were silver. “There!”

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean shrugged.

“Does that look like any camera flare you’ve ever seen?” you asked rhetorically.

He just looked away, defeated.

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam chimed in. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger?” Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once,” Sam said.

Despite the luxurious villa Sam’s friend called home, the three of you didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.

You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boys’ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when he’d just woken up.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grinned.

He scratched his head. “(Y/N), what the fu—”

“We have to get to Zack’s house. I just thought of something. “

Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. “Whatcha got?”

Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room.

“We saw ‘Zack’ go in, but never saw the killer leave,” you explained. “But of course, we didn’t. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?”

Sam was with you, nodding his head.

“Did you have to realize that before five in the morning?” Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep. But I figured that out, so that’s all that matters.”

Dean shook his head and yawned again. “Sam, you’re driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.”

***

“He must’ve gone out the back door,” Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zack’s house. “So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

“C’mon,” you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zack’s house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

“Blood. Somebody came this way,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean added from a few paces ahead. “I don’t see anything over here.”

Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Dean’s car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“He tried to kill his wife,” she responded with a hand to her chest. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.” She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.

The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?” Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.

“Yeah,” his brother answered.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

You gasped, feigning shock. “Mark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he retorted.

“What’d you find out?” Sam asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” Dean explained.

“So, he was in two places at once, too.”

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think he’s a nutjob.”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “You think it could be a shapeshifter?”

“Something that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,” Sam responded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves,” Dean added. “We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this— in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” the younger brother asked.

“Not that I know of.” You shook your head. “But someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then… the trail just… ends. Just like at your friend’s house.” You gestured toward Sam.

“Well, there’s another way to go.” You followed Dean’s gaze down to a manhole.

“Ew, gross.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover.

The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen.

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. “Blegh, look!”

“Is this from his victims?” Sam looked equally as disgusted.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. “You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.”

“That is sick,” you affirmed.

He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.

“Ew, dude!” you shoved his arm. “What the fuck?”

He just laughed in response.

You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad—” Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, “—is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” you chimed in.

He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets.

Sam’s cell phone rang. “This is Sam… We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out… What are you talkin’ about?”

He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why she’d be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.

“Why would you do that?... Bec— We’re tryin’ to help… Bec, I’m sorry, but—” And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.

Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you guys,” he replied quietly.

“Sam, I’m not trying to be heartless, but Dean’s kinda right.” Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. “We’re not like other people.”

“But I’ll tell you one thing.” Dean’s lighthearted tone was back. “This whole gig— it ain’t without perks.” He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.

You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Sam’s head. “I think we’re close to its lair,” you told them.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked.

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you snickered.

“Oh, God!” His face scrunched up in disgust.

There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you.

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while,” you heard Dean say from behind you.

You turned to face him as you spoke. “Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away— Fuck, Dean!” you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him.

Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off.

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean commanded.

The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldn’t see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up.

Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him.

***

The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you weren’t entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brother’s voice coming from behind you.

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not—” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post.

You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean.

“You are one fucking trainwreck,” he said, searching your face.

You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. “The more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.”

“What do you mean ‘learn’?”

As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. “You made a big mistake telling him— I mean, me— about what you did to your family. If I wasn’t ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. “You fucking bitch. Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head.

“(Y/N), are you back there?” Dean called from somewhere you couldn’t see.

You knew he hadn’t said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” Your voice was still shaky from crying. “He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” Dean gibed at his brother.

You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.

You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,” you heard Sam tell Dean.

“What do you mean?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,” you told him.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?”

You giggled. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam added.

“Yeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connection— ah,” you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.

“(Y/N), stop, I’m coming to help you,” Dean instructed.

“I’m a big girl,” you replied sassily. “I can do it.”

Dean had made his way over to you. “Do you have to fight me on everything?” He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck.

“Yes, but thank you,” you told him. You still couldn’t look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldn’t deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way he’d helped you were starting to break down your walls a little.

“Come on, we gotta go,” you heard Sam order from behind you. “He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out.

Sam started down the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped him. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End—” the reporter stated, “—where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

Of course, Dean’s attitude was unwavering. “Man! That’s not even a good picture.”

You looked around nervously.

“It’s good enough,” Sam said.

“Man!” Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway.

“They said attempted murder,” you pointed out. “At least we know—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

You nodded.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

‘He’s still as arrogant as ever.’

“We have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,” you countered.

“Sweetheart, the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal, I wanna find him.” He turned to face you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I get it. We need guns, though.”

“The car?” Sam threw in.

“I’m bettin’ he drove over to Rebecca’s.” Dean’s face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him drivin’ my car—” he whined.

You shook your head. “Come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” Dean whined again.

“Let it go,” you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.

The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.” Dean’s joy was almost contagious.

His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebecca’s street and blocking the end of the road.

“Fuck.” You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too.

“This way, this way,” Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it.

“You guys go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you.” Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s,” Sam quickly spoke.

You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.

Dean sat beside you. “What did he say to you?”

You turned to him. “Huh?”

“The shifter. What’d he say to you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine—”

“(Y/N), you haven’t looked at me once since we left that thing’s hideout. Tell me what he said.”

“Why can’t you drop it?” you spat, looking down at your boots.

“Because,” he protested. “I gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.”

You sighed. “He said you think I’m annoying. And, um, a burden. He said you’re trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you can’t trust me because of what I did to my family.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

“He said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.”

He nodded. “Do you really believe that?” You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “You haven’t exactly proven otherwise to me.” You looked up at him for the first time in hours.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all we’ve ever done is fight,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “But I don’t think those things about you. Honest.”

“I feel like I’m pulling teeth here, Dean,” you remarked. “What do you think of me?”

“I mean, you can be annoying.”

You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips.

“And you’re way too stubborn.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And so are you.”

“And you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Would you let me finish?” he deadpanned.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You just… you intimidate me a little, honestly.” Now Dean was the one who couldn’t look at you.

You were shocked. “Really? Why?”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman.”

You giggled at the memory.

“This tops that by far,” he admitted.

You nodded. You’d have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit.

“Can we start over?” you asked him.

He eyed you curiously.

“As… acquaintances, I mean,” you explained. “We’re no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine I’ll be around for a little while longer. I’d rather us not fight the whole time. It’s getting exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“Okay, then.” You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. “Hi. I’m (Y/N).”

Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. “Dean.” This time, he actually shook your hand.

***

Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place you’d heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.

“What happened?” you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts.

She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” Dean told her.

The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Dean said. “Sam went to see you.”

When you got to Rebecca’s house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.

Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, “Hey!”

The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead.

You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. “Are you okay?” you asked him.

He smiled painfully at you. “Peachy.”

You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over… Dean… and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.

You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.

Sam approached the two of you.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked his brother.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam jested. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Get in the car, (Y/N),” he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasn’t trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.

As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. “Sorry, man.”

“About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know?” the older brother said earnestly. “I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,” Sam admitted.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said dryly.

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Sam’s voice softened.

“You know, I gotta say. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.”

You felt one of Dean’s stupid jokes coming on. “Oh, here we go.”

He eyed you in the rearview mirror.

“Miss what?” Sam asked.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smirked.

You shook your head. “And there it is.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

319 notes · View notes